Susan LaffertyRise early in the morning. Just in time to walk out in the dark and witness the first edge of dawn. Pushing light against silhouetted trees, houses. Flooding pale hues of color across the sky.
No matter what happened the day before, whatever is taking place in this season—somehow the break of day clears the dark.
We returned to Delhi the summer of 2012 and all I could see was the dust. It coated every leaf on every tree. It covered all surfaces outside and inside. A thorough cleaning of our apartment yielded little evidence of the hard work. A few hours later I was wiping off another fine layer of the stuff.