Her fingers clasped tightly around the cold fence links. Her face was pressed against rusty metal, and she ignored the sharp pain—even though it bit into her tired skin.
Was there really freedom and hope on the other side? It looked so much like this side. An artificial border could not divide the landscape. Besides, she knew uncertainty, penury, hunger, and disease awaited. Would they really be better off if they were allowed to cross?
Yes, we will, she thought firmly. The fence was the difference between life and death. It was better to be hungry than to be dead.