When I woke up, I had become an ant. I trailed over my parents’ bodies, the stench of their rotting bodies piercing my senses.
My heart grew faint. ‘They are dying.’ But a flash came. The roar of the rain was God’s voice. The rain had come, and that which ought to die is now made alive.
Text & Photographs: Sean Lee | Website: www.seanleephoto.com