Born a Crime

Anytime I made the mistake of
turning on the fan the vent would
fart bits of leaves and dust all over
me. Whenever it broke down we’d
catch minibuses, or sometimes we’d
hitchhike. She’d make me hide in
the bushes because she knew men
would stop for a woman but not a
woman with a child. She’d stand by
the road, the driver would pull over,
she’d open the door and then
whistle, and I’d come running up to
the car. I would watch their faces
drop as they realized they weren’t
picking up an attractive single
woman but an attractive single
woman with a fat little kid.