She stands as a sign of freedom, of a new life, of sanctuary and peace.
The boat is crammed with a stinking mass of bodies lying prostrate on the deck their cries turned to silence.
I stand alone then watching her and praying. Praying to a God that abandoned us somewhere between there and here. A God that gave salvation to women and children in a watery grave.
Even now the boat fills and there is no-one left to bail. To be so close, to have lost so much.
And if I make it?
How many steps will I take on that green land before they send me back to hell?
Please visit Friday Fictioneers and flex your gray matter!
Or take a read at some of my favorites this week.