Thanks as always to Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers and congratulations on seven years!
This story was literally an adventure in editing. If you’re a writer and have never taken on writing a 100 word story, it can seriously be an edifying experience. I highly recommend it. You will learn how to converse and use the best possible word. Guaranteed!
Points to anyone who can think of what song might have inspired the title. 🙂
My country spit on refugees, refused aid. “Dirty reprehensible people” because, evidently, rebels chose war against their government.
But now, ironically, here we are, grimy, smelly, returning home. Our government fell, their message of hate so self-absorbed that outsiders infiltrated. We had no where to go. Hate is communicable.
“This isn’t our home, daddy,” my sister, Katie, says, tears glistening.
Our home’s debris, but the gardens are immaculate, a strange, disorienting patch of pastoral calm. I venture down the path alone. A woman, reminiscent of Gaea, tends paradise. Sad-eyed, she shakes her head and smiles. “One day you will all learn.”