There was litter and rubble spread across the ground. There were 2 things I was gazing at. The blue kite, and Hassan’s bloodied corduroy pant laying across a pile of bricks. Wali and Kamal were holding Hassan’s arms so that his chest was pinned against the ground. While I was peering over a broken wall which was protecting me from Wali and Kamal’s sight I saw a glimpse of Hassan’s face. It was a look I had recognized. It was the look of the lamb. In an instant I stood up and ran towards my faithful friend. One hand was carrying Hassan’s slingshot and the other was carrying a broken glass bottle to protect myself. “Ah, the ungrateful hazzara lover is here to save his “friend”.” I looked at him and said that he was not a hazzara, but he is my
