Shakeela And Boy Direct

Arul looked up, smudged with charcoal. “I didn’t know spots had owners.”

The boy arrived on a Tuesday, when the heat hung heavy and still. His name was Arul, and he came from the city, where buildings clawed at the sky and people forgot to look at the moon. He wore clean white sneakers and carried a sketchbook instead of a water pot. The village children followed him at first, curious and giggling, but soon grew bored of his silence. Shakeela and boy

Not him. Not the tree.