I go alone. He does not know I am gone. He is at work and I should be safe until he comes home.
The Al-Qa Square is full of people. The noise is jarring and the pushing and jostling make me nervous. I feel like a ball of yarn being batted around by large cats.
This place is the opposite of my village of Khardji in Northwest Yemen. My home is quiet and I have few neighbors; mostly, they are relatives of mine. Oh, I wish I were home among my family and not out in this chaos seeking justice.

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