What Made Now Sour: Amanda POV

Daddy took me to school in the morning, himself. We drove in silence, he staring at the wheel, me staring out the window. When we drove past Elimgbu junction, I thought about the crossroads the four-way junction had created. One time, Dad told me that back then in the village, some people who believe in one deity or the other would go to a junction that doubles as a crossroads and they would make sacrifices there. He told me how he saw cowries and red brown blood on the coal tar when he went out for water—some times even a dead chicken or two in the middle of the road. He told me how he glimpsed that bizzare sight so many times that he became used to it. Still, His face contorted into a grimace when he said it and i knew he was thinking about all those wasted birds that someone could have eaten and been satisfied with. I thought of them, too. Although I had never seen such—i still have not—i was angry at them, whoever they were, for all that wastage. 

While zooming past t