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The Price of Kindness
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I met him on a day I had nothing. No money. No hope. No one to call. He bought me food without asking questions. Paid my transport. Even gave me extra money. I thought… “God has finally remembered me.” But I didn’t know… That some help comes with a hidden price. He started calling every day. At first, I felt special. Then it became control. “Where are you?” “Who are you with?” “Why didn’t you pick my call?” The same man that helped me… Started making me feel like I owed him my life. One night, he said it clearly:
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Photographic
art, news, personal or emotional
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Mark
Monique
