Kuto’s life no. 618

It was early morning when Kuto awoke from his makeshift bed of blankets and clothes. The sun had not yet risen, but the sky was beginning to lighten. He stretched and yawned, then got to his feet and began to pack up his things. It would be another long day of walking, he knew, and he wanted to get an early start.

He had been on the road for weeks now, ever since he had fled his home in Honduras. His life there had been filled with sadness and desperation; he could no longer stand it. So he had set out on a journey, not knowing where he was going or what he would find. But anything would be better than what he left behind, he told himself.

As Kuto walked, his thoughts drifted back to all that had happened in recent months…

His mother’s death from cancer; being forced to drop out of school to support his family; having to take whatever odd jobs came his way just to put food on the table; watching ashis father slowly succumbedto alcoholism… Each day seemed harder than the last until finally Kuto couldn’t take it anymore. And sohe ran awayin search of a new life – any life – that didn’t involve all this pain and suffering.