• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 03

What’s over the exile fence?

Life at our side of the exile fence is one of angst. Of not being sure.

The fence, from my childhood, seemed to be great wall. One that fenced us in, within our lot. Here, we would often come, trailing after our mud-caked football, chewing bubble gum and watch them in high boots, driving nails into the fence. Stay away, the crow warns us, cawing from the fence.

Sometimes, I wished, should I climb over? But fear, like a steel bird, hung its large wings over me. Surveillance has many eyes and those float in space.

I dream often, how is life at the other end? I see people packing their bags and leaving. Through barbed wires, jumping over the gaps. For that other side, where they say sun comes up in technicolor hues and the world is not a battered blue…. It’s a relief from destiny.

Another gap, I discovered today. I peeped through it, watching the twilight through my dark side. I wished I could get a little closer, to that bright flame of hope on the other side. The crow cawed again, and my feet fell rooted.