this morning #1130.

this morning, he tossed the box of mangoes aside. ready to fight. if not for the presence of the neighborhood women, we probably would’ve come to blows right then & there. instead, he got inches from my face, all pent-up anger, sweat & spit. red nostrils flaring. head tilted slightly askew. he stared at me, his breathing a stand-in for the violence that was likely swirling around his head. i didn’t back down though. it wasn’t an option. if i let him win the day, i’d never again be able to show my face in this place. we had ourselves a standoff. if not for the pack of wild dogs that came streaming down the street towards us, we’d likely still be standing there, staring each other down.