I was in Belize with Violet drinking coffee in the morning while we were waiting for a bus to take us onwards. In the dusty median in the center of the road there was a young girl with her mother selling newspapers standingand her brother throwing rocks at her. We made eye contact for a while. I drew her, the lampposts, that one green painted building, our nearly intersecting lives. There's all these different paths we take - and can take - and that there's always time to take a different path.
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