Steal their souls for dollars, euros, and pesos, the tourist bathe in the praise, their day in the sun.
All day walking and laying on the beach to get the shot, the angle, the moment, for some uppity brat to complain of her weight and walk away. Sand in the hair, and the legs ache, two more kilometers to the road and the dangers of the freeway, and the bus ride home.
Dinner ready and waiting, a tired body only hanging on the hook of a tired smile. Things placed, belly full of last wine and pasta. Cool concrete floors on the soles.
A day in the day.
