The whitewashed walls reflected the sun’s glare. Alice adjusted her sunglasses.

Small stones skittered and bounced down a wall then, with a wail, a boy landed at her feet. He was small, dirty and frightened; Alice saw blood running down his left leg. She took off her rucksack, pulling out a bottle of water and some tissue.  She bathed his leg while he stared defiantly up at her. A battered car screeched to a halt, Alice stared in disbelief as the driver pulled out a gun. She screamed as a shot rang out. Pocketing his gun the boy hobbled away.

Thanks to Jan Morrill for the photograph and to Madison Woods for “Friday Fictioneers”. http://www.madison-woods.com/Wordpress/index-of-stories/101212-2/