The Procession to Calvary

[Short Story] A child reflects on their day.

We climbed up the hill and we turned around the boulder with the windmill. We passed by a beggar who had no feet. The beggar sat and he raised a bowl with some coins in it to my father. My father walked away from him, but I stopped and I looked at the beggar. I looked at his unfinished legs, at what used to be his feet, at the hard and dark skin that fo…