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Innocence
I saw her. Twelve o'clock last night. She thought she was alone. I was watching from my third floor apartment window. I can tell you exactly what she did starting from the beginning: She walked through the valley with a bundle nestled in her left arm'she looked like she came straight out of a dump herself. She walked about a quarter mile up the street, and stopped at the city dumpster.
No, that isn't a baby in her hand. That's just some trash that she's cradling. That thought changed when she unraveled the bundle and I saw the face of an innocent ebony baby, unaware of its surroundings.
There had to be a reason why a human would do anything of that sort. Maybe she couldn't help take care of it, maybe she couldn't afford it, or just maybe'she didn't want it.
She finished unraveling the baby and placed the blanket on a chair nearby. After that, she held the baby up high and, from what I could see from afar, kissed the baby one last time for she would never see it again.
She loved the baby. I'm sure she did. But at the time, I didn't understand what was going on. I blinked once and held my eyes shut for a second, just to make sure that it wasn't a nightmare.
No, it was true.
I opened my eyes and watched as the poor, malnourished young girl placed the helpless baby in the hollow dumpster. And all was gone. She felt someone watching her'she felt me. Ironically, she looked up at my third floor apartment window, where I continued to scrutinize her every move. She sees me. I stare at her with serious yet sincere eyes, for what feels like eternity. She breaks the glare, looks at the blameless baby one last time, and runs away into the night's fog, never to return. And all I hear is the faint sound of innocent whimpers.
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