Even in the world of the innocent evil finds a way in.
The Orange Ball
It was a simple ball, round in shape and Orange in color. It was highly attractive for the eight ten year old children who were gathered around it to commence a harmless game of Futball. In this neck of the woods, East Jerusalem, it was called Futball not Soccer. The reddish hue of Youssef’s hair was near in its tint to the ball, in fact- for that matter so were the freckles dotting his face. On the other side of the small pitch was a boy with long curly hair named Ahmed, leading his newly found friends, against Youssef’s side. To watch them from a park bench, as their mothers intently did, you…
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