She lies down at her doorstep, and with a childish look, she notices the adults passing by, half in anger, of not having any hope for a hot plate when they come back home in the evening, and half in hunger for they didn’t find something to bite yesternight and the days before.
But she looks past their anger and hunger, for she sees the world through the eyes of a child, for this is the purest of joy. Her gaze is a cocktail of wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities; she looks at everything as if she is seeing it for the first time.
She tries to escape the current reality of her hunger pangs; she squeezes her tummy against the earth so it’s like her hunger pangs against the world, for the world only cares about its stomach.
She can’t stand it so she lies down.
She can’t stand what is going on in the world today so she lies down