Mai Ly Nguyen

Waiting for the Sun to Rise

Two arches. A point. Two arches. A point. Over and over again. He’d done this many times. He knew this shape well. Mindlessly, his finger traced the heart in the filthy dust that seemed to coat everything down here. It was easy to ignore the dull chatter of the others despite how gratingly their voices bounced off the stone walls. He’d been around long enough to get used to it; for it to be just one of the many things pushed to the background.