Abayomi Animashaun

When it rains, gutters here swell. Break their ledge. And flood apartments with feces and rodents. The residents don't scream. Pack their clothes and run out of their buildings. They sleep through it. And simply kick gently, if the rodents get bold enough to bite their feet.

But on such days, when the moon allows. And is bright. Large. And free of clouds. Everyone, even the cripples and the blind. Crawl and stagger outside.

The leper from Building A, reaches into her blouse. Pulls out a small plastic bag with fried bean cakes. Opens it. And shares it with a blind man. Across the street, the cripple from Building F is laughing at an old woman for running after a car and holding up her amputated arm.

The children, after chasing rodents in the water. Take their begging bowls. Jump in the gutters and splash each other for hours, till they're called inside.