TE20 Migrant Mosaics

The Fig Tree

him once more. He couldn’t have wished for any more; any more would have been too much.

I’d like to go home, she said.

Once again he stopped mid-sentence. Half a word remained on the tip of his tongue.

But you…

No, it wasn’t a sentence he could complete. He couldn’t go any further. He could no longer keep calling her back from her imaginary worlds. Sutra te vodim kući, 1 he said, to this stranger, who lived in his home.

That woman wasn’t Jana, and it made no sense to speak in the language that he and Jana had always spoken.

___

1 I’ll take you home tomorrow.

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