the first post from adam in a long, long time.
A painted stone wall just taller than a grown man’s reach surrounded the sport complex. The top of the wall was a half-meter thick and littered with jagged glass that had been stuck into the wet gray mortar by hand. As the dust red paint peeled from the wall, the glass shattered into odd constellations of colored mirrors.
The base of the stone wall attracted the brown hands of children each evening. The little ones of the barrio would press their backs into the sun baked stones as they waited for a chance to kick at a homemade pelota, seeking the small warmth the stones had stored from the afternoon. I had also seen individual children, usually a dream-swept boy, wander off on his own. He would trace the entire perimeter of the continuous wall, fingers brushing stone at the height of his small shoulders as he stared into the dirty ground.
In the early morning when the stones had become cold and the streets were empty a young girl dragged open the gate while her father waited inside of an automobile. The headlights of his hatchback car illuminated her progress as she tugged at the corrugated metal, which had been mounted onto a set of plastic bicycle training wheels. Sprawling spray-painted letters warned the quiet street, “NO ENTRAR”. The dark-headed little girl pushed the gate back to its place as her father slipped inside.