They’re back.

They came back differently from how they left. Where there was understandable drama and tragedy now had just become a casual encounter. I was coming back from a bike trip to Savalou, and I turned the corner into my housing unit. And there, playing in the front dirt, were the two kids who had been missing from my life for the past three weeks.

“Hi auntie,” they said. And I pedaled past them to my door.