WASHED AWAY

 

With blue and purple powders, the artist had chalked the pavement while watching the skies. All around him starving masses of people begged for money, begged for food. I watched as he finished the drawing of the Hindu god with its pink elephant head, just as the first drops of rain started. Tourists had thrown coins onto the image. The devout crowd dared not tread upon the god to get the coins. The raindrops came, and the artist gathered up the money just as the image was being washed away. Perhaps the gods provide after all, but timing is everything.

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First published by Five Minutes Lit.