By Triantafyllia Kaimakami
Fallen yellow leaves swirl about as the train approaches the station. I’m the only one waiting to board, which is unusual for a Tuesday morning. But it means I find a seat easily, in the first carriage I reach.
I browse the newspaper: ‘Refugee bodies wash up on Lesbos Beach, including 7 children.’
A crying baby sounds; I lift my eyes to look, and wonder if crying sounds the same when babies struggle in stormy seas.
What is the lullaby of their seabed; does mourning resound in the frozen waves.
The ticket collector interrupts my thoughts.
“May I check your ticket, sir?”
Well done. Forces us to look at our safe life in the context of other’s tragedies.
Nice story, very touching…
Well-written and very thought-provoking. A winner.
Sad, touching and beautiful. Was the italicized line a question? It sounded like one but wasn’t punctuated like one. That confused me. Otherwise, it was a well done piece!