The border

It’s going to be the end of something – leaving most everything behind – having had no time to pack much except for whatever little money I had, some clothes and my naked life – having been woken by the knock on my door at 3 a.m. – Ashraf whispering that I’d been uncovered, all the unpatriotic, antireligious, blasphemous things I’d been saying on my blog – he’d overheard some officers talking about it – knew it had to be me – knew I’d be picked up, shoved in the slammer, beaten up, sentenced according to whatever ancient law –  he had his Nissan pickup waiting outside, was going to take me to Chalmand, from where I could get a bus – it was unlikely that they were on the lookout for me yet, but I’d have to get off before the border – he had an address written down of a man who’d take me across, through the high mountains –  but then I’d have to look out for myself  – surely I had friends over there I could stay with for a while until – but the main thing was to get me out, across the border

– James Steerforth (© 2011)

Posted as a contribution for One Single Impression and ‘border’.

About James Steerforth

I am an author of poetry and fiction, translator and painter who loves to have fun with borrowed feathers.
This entry was posted in Creative writing, Enigma, Flash fiction, Life, Literature, Sweet dreams and nightmares, Writing and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to The border

  1. Ramesh Sood says:

    Well…somehow..couldn’t make out…hope it is fiction..

  2. sandra says:


  3. Jingle says:

    fun story…

  4. Kim Nelson says:

    As I read this story I feel the press to leave, the need for a safe, new place, an urgency of emotion. You effectively conveyed the truth of such situations.
    Here is Mine:

  5. ms pie says:

    dynamite shortie… and so contemporary… well, maybe not so.. it’s been going on forever… fighting for freedom….

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