Madhavi meets life // And then it’s too late

17. November 2018
Dieser Beitrag ist auch verfügbar in: Deutsch

I’m sitting in the Berlin subway. It smells of stale smoke and cold sweat. I still haven’t gotten used to this perfume after all these years, so I keep some peppermint oil in my bag. I rub it on my palms and, huffing, try to survive the journey. Across from me is an eleven-year-old boy, part of a crew of noisy school kids. Something about him is different…