Day 1679

I seek not to harvest his scalp.

Day 1673

I taper the steel and sharpen the wide edge. I build a handle to encase the hard metal. With the tools I make, as best I can, I shall defend this village against its enemies.

Day 1671

Ahmed's boils have grown worse. I venture into the forest and forage for plants with which to make a soothing salve. I see the destruction wrought by his machete on the moist soil.  He is the cobra waiting in the weeds to strike.

Day 1665

He struts through the village wielding two stone-sharpened machetes, hacking at all in his path. Delicate flowers lie wilting on the soft earth. A tear forms in my eye as I cradle Ahmed in my arms.

Day 1656

Like weeds in the untended paddy, the German has planted many lies in my absence.

Day 1654

The German hunts birds with his pellet gun. I prepare the soil.

Day 1652

The German leaves the village on the morning of my breakfast celebration. The people come from their homes to welcome me with open arms. I will not serve Bavarian pastries.