When the water started seeping through the floor, Tarek took off his leather shoes. He didn’t throw them overboard. He held them up.
Tonight, the stars are very bright. The coast guard’s light is a white dot on the horizon. It might be rescue. It might be return. I don’t know which is scarier. refugee the diary of ali ismail
The father of three behind us starts to pray. The teenager from Idlib is laughing—hysterically, I think—because the moon is very bright and we are all going to die in a raft meant for ten people that holds forty-seven. When the water started seeping through the floor,
The engine dies. The sea is black and greedy. refugee the diary of ali ismail