TE20 Migrant Mosaics

The Fig Tree

Hey You cooked whatever he liked. Everything was cooked in water until it was soft, and everything was fried in oil until it was brown, or even better, black. And everything went with everything, because it all ended up together in the stomach and there was no point in complicating things for the sake of a couple of pensioners with tired old taste buds. She made her way along the hallway slowly, as she couldn’t find the light switch and couldn’t see where she was putting her feet. Hey You watched her, illuminated by the dim light of the gas flames, flickering in blue beneath the pot, and causing her to stop there, in the doorway. She was looking at the stove, she thought it strange that something was cooking in the dark, in an empty house. There was nobody around and she didn’t want anything cooking. She didn’t see Hey You, as he drew nearer, and stopped right behind her, touching her gently. She leapt into the air. Shewanted to scream but couldn’t summon her voice. The air was expelled from her lungs and she took desperate gasps of breath as if choking. She backed away from him and almost tumbled to the ground. She wanted to run away, she didn’t understand his laughter; she was trembling and was holding on to thewalls with both hands. She still couldn’t scream. She was choking and she opened her mouth, but she couldn’t breathe. Boo!

Jana! It’s me, Jana! I’m sorry! It’s Aleksandar! Your husband!

It was too late. She was in flight, but rooted to the spot. Her feet 67