Here, in the Pink Zone, we are safe, but we are sad. Once a week carts arrive with provisions: rice, beans, tea. Sometimes there are fruits. Mangoes, apples, persimmons. The youngest of us rush at them as if to quench a longing for our fathers’ arrival.
—-Susan Carol, Partition
I keep reading about dystopia, refugees, or the end of the world. Should read about something happy – but it doesn’t read realistic right now.
from Reflex Fiction