11.5 Karera
At 10 years old, (1.5) Angela’s head was titled to the right. It was only obvious when she tells you, but she doesn’t really tell. Unless you observe her long enough. But who would look at a little girl who was merely the daughter of a gay man. She hears her father as he walks in their rickety apartment building. (4.2) The tick-tack tacking of his high heels (3.6), as he was off to “work”. She remembers the same clip-clopping of horse in movie she used to love: “Spirit: Stallion of Cimarron” (3.6). The horse there was trying to find his way to freedom when it was oppressed by American innovators as he was driven out of their natural home, he escapes and found true freedom.
She is kissed by her father on the forehead, asking her to make-do with dinner last night. He still hasn’t received his pay, but he will and that he promises. She proceeds to the market, where she helps sell vegetables and gets to keep the not-so-good ones. Although she wasn’t very good since she always spoke in a small voice, she couldn’t attract enough customers. It was late in the afternoon, when she proceeded hom. She switches on the lights, but they don’t work. Their electricity had been cut off - again.
She looks at her house, which is as small as a horse’s stable, and it was just as dirty. She lights a candle to help her see what she had to prepare for dinner. It was herself again, dad was out. There’s the morning shift as a salesclerk and night shift at a night club. She is off in a daze. Again, she remembers the horse, but this time a race horse. She looks at the candle light, as it tips over and falls on the bed sheet. Life is a race. And no one’s betting on her to win.