Mushtaq watched as his father heaved again, motion sickness was the least of their worries but for an eight year old to watch his hero turn various shades of puce before vomiting into the ocean was confronting. Their leaky boat was overcrowded and only the dreams of the desperate could ever entice them to embark on this lethal voyage.

Their prayer was to find a safe haven far away from the foul camps of Indonesia and war zones. The bombs, bullets and gases they escaped in Syria were far worse but everything was comparable to what was happening today.

Mushtaq could only pray that his mother and sisters were safe while their ‘men’ were seeking improved living conditions. The separation was playing on his mind.

Would they all live, how would they meet again, how could life really change when everything seemed so overwhelming?

He desperately wanted to distract his father, to take his mind of the constant motion and endless horizon but knew that worry consumed them both. Their future was doubtful, would they make land or be intercepted by pirates or worse still, customs? Then they would just be exchanging one horror for detention with more unknowns.

prompt: HOPE x 200 words + my poem about those displaced


        • I’d start by putting them on teh front of teh battle line, make them go without facilities, food, money, take a raft to wherever, and have to beg to get a place on a boat to australia and then make them suffer through detention for a couple of years without support. gosh, did I write that (say that out loud) 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s