
created by andrew chung
"come," kafa says as she takes his hand again. "let's go to my room."
she sits on the plain white mattress lying on the right wall of her room. a small, short wooden table rests next to the mattress and on top lays a picture. he sits beside her on the mattress. he looks at the picture on the bedside table. "is that your mom and dad?"
she turns and looks at it. "yes."
they appear incredibly joyous in the photo. how strange, he wonders. in a desert with very little things. a place where fear is commonplace, and death, normal. and still, people have the time to be joyous.
loud knocks are heard at the door, and they turn their heads toward the hallway in unison. she stands and slowly makes her way to the front door. "stay here." after what seems like five minutes to the boy, kafa reenters the room. "it's safe to go outside now. my neighbour says the trucks turned to the next town."
outside, others are slowly creeping out of their homes. with hesitation they look around for any signs of danger. the two tip toe outside with the same reluctance. the little town is overrun with silence. here, it seems, silence is synonymous with fear.
as comfort begins to settle and more civilians scatter the town, the two make their way deeper into the neigbourhood. an older boy, probably in his teens, walks across the two, carrying a jug of water.
"marhaba! kaifa halekhee?" he notices kafa.
"eaini..." she murmurs. "sadik, feyn aasim?"
he shrugs. "ann eazinak..." the teenage boy says as he walks away.
"shokran," she replies.
the language is peculiar to the boy, yet he finds it intriguing. kafa turns to him, "something is wrong. aasim takes no longer than half an hour to get back."
epoch 2 chapter 4 | joe dreamer | epoch 2 chapter 6