A voice whispered. ‘Don’t worry. It’s our escort.’
Vehicles lined up in the humid compound. I ran to a jeep with a white family, clasping my baby in her sling. ‘No room’, they said and closed their doors. Someone called me from The Black Baptist Mission bus. As I boarded, a man gave me his seat. I thanked him and sat with my back to the window, kissing my girl’s head. We hadn’t gone far when the convoy stopped. I looked over my shoulder to see armed rebels running towards the bus. The door opened and I closed my eyes.
A voice whispered. ‘Don’t worry. It’s our escort.’
Pamela Kennedy
27/5/2022 08:34:03 am
Well done, Therese!
Alex B
27/5/2022 02:21:36 pm
wow this peaces is a live and full of colour
Sue Clayton
28/5/2022 05:42:44 am
Fate and a black Baptist mission bus wrapped its arms around her and her child. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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