It’s afternoon. The boy is running again. The sound of explosion is louder than the echo of misery, and the people that shove him are really his chances of serenity getting away from him. A woman dressed in a black abaya and niqab grabs his hand and says collide with me; I will be your mother as bombs burst our ears and our people.
Ashlie Allen lives in the east coast, where she plans to attend Literature school. She also has plans to study photography.