At noon, the sun hung high.
The air was stiflingly hot.
A breeze blew past, causing a makeshift hut cobbled together with straw and withered branches in an unnoticed corner of the village to emit a series of creaking sounds.
It seemed like an overwhelmed old man, teetering on the brink of collapse.
The noise seemed to stir something inside the hut, as a series of gurgling sounds echoed from within.
In the corner of the hut, amidst some bundles of straw that were partly yellow and mostly black, lay a woman on a pile of straw in the corner.
The woman wore a clearly ill-fitting skirt and lay barefoot on the straw, her feet covered in calluses and sores, her body gaunt and thin.
