By Dawn Knox
I’m poisoning my children. Slowly but surely.
As the weeks go by, they become weaker; displaying symptoms associated with arsenic exposure. They are weak and sickly; their skin covered with ulcers and rashes. At their age, I ran about the village, full of energy. But my children’s vitality dwindles like a guttering candle.
And it is my fault. It is I who poisons them with water from the village well. The spring is our sole source of water and we are all contaminated. But we must drink.
We die quickly without water.
But with it, we die slowly and painfully.
“Writing is my passion – it’s my work, rest and play.” – the writer