TE20 Migrant Mosaics

The Fig Tree

She also fell asleep with her clothes on, he thought to himself. But fromwhere he was standing it was impossible to tell whether she really was just sleeping. She was lying on her back, with her mouth open, but he couldn’t hear her breathing. His heart was already pounding dangerously as he got closer. He hovered his hand over her mouth and his body froze. He waited for his trembling palms to be touched by her warm breath; he waited for blood to flow through his veins. He waited for death to return him back to life.

She’s alive, he eventually sighed.

She’s alive, he said again.

He tried to move his hand away from above her face, but it disobeyed him.

He was struck by the smell of stale urine. It was a foul stench that clung onto a person, got under their skin. As if the bed-wetter had been lying there for days. On the bed beneath her he felt a large damp stain. Then he noticed her eyes, open and bulging.

They gave him such a fright that he darted backwards.

You’ve had a little accident, he told her. Stand up, let’s get you washed and dressed, so you’re not lying there in the damp.

Jana didn’t move. She showed no sign of understanding what he’d said. The only thing that showed was the horror from the 69