Hesitating, I woke up into the still dull and foggy morning, maybe expecting for a miracle to happen, maybe for this hunger to end.... if there was just a cure for this sickness. Filled with worries of all sorts, I looked beyond the cracked window to the land that has become parched and futile in which can no longer support my family. Then squinted further into the distance, pass the streets where my homeless neighbors now wondered about in despair, with their bare feet against the dusty land, and dark circles boldly shown beneath their hollow eyes. It has been days since my children and I have last eaten a decent meal and I have lost the count of time. Hope was the only thing left, and I too, wanted to give up...sigh...but I know that I will never be able to leave my children behind. Perhaps this will get better. Perhaps. Then a sudden thought struck into my mind, if only. I startled myself by realizing that I was waking up George and Eddie. "We're leaving," I grabbed onto each of my children's wrist pulling them up. Perhaps I could start again. In a new place...by chance, it might be better there.
The train squealed and pumped in rhythm as it speed down past my village. It would lead us to another place, another world. A new seed of hope spread across my mind as my children leaned on me covering their eyes from the dust spraying from the train. Perhaps, but this would be our last hope.
wow:) i like your writing Michelle!
ReplyDeleteThe voice was very clear and I thought I was the mother while I was reading this. Nice descriptive words and good job! :-)