Flash Fiction–Fateful Crossing

Fateful Crossing

I stuffed everything I could into my small knapsack. This Mediterranean journey would determine my destiny. I left everything; my country, family, friends. But this wasn’t what I’d expected.

Men with guns grabbed my knapsack. “What? That’s my stuff! Why can I not take it?”

“Just documents—and you! On the boat—if you want to go.” I paid them fifteen hundred.

Old boat—too many people. The storm’s fury turned that twenty-four hour crossing into two nightmarish weeks. Five hundred died. My destiny? My Hope? It’s almost gone. I survived, but Hell continues.

by Linda K. Bridges
Pikes Peak Branch, CO

 

4 comments

  1. Dayle Herstik says:

    You summed up the plight of people who once had normal lives. The rest is unknown. Desperate feelings in few words.
    Dayle

  2. NLAPW says:

    This story is so moving because it is told from the perspective of the refugees. It’s crafted so beautifully that the “real” author disappears and the voice is authentic.

  3. I wrote Fateful Crossing after reading reports about the thousands of desperate refugees paying exorbitant fares to be taken over the Mediterranean Sea from Libya to Italy. I wept that day when I read about their plight and testimonies similar to my story. Based on true events.

    • Dayle Herstik says:

      You summed up feelings of a person who once had a normal life. Desperation transmitted in a few words.

Comments are closed.