In his finest traveling shirt Babanding prepared to leave. His faded red duffel with the two rabbits carefully stitched on it was packed and ready to go. He walked towards the door, but stopped in the doorway and placed his bag (and its rabbits) carefully by his side. Then he slowly bent down and wrote two lines in the sand with his finger while reciting a prayer. When he was at peace enough to elevate the rabbits (and the bag) again he did so, and then took one large step to ensure his writing remained unscathed. He said his goodbyes and walked through the compound gate across the plot where the new mosque is planned to be. He headed towards the crumbling yet enduring road. The last time I've seen him since. One really must wash their hands before they write and then again afterward as well.