What will we do, Mummy?

We headed into the rising sun, not looking back again.

BY THE FIREPLACE BY SEÁN MCNICHOLL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 108

I left my mother sitting in the chair, rocking by the fireplace. I dragged my son to the back door, imploring him to be quiet. His beautiful blue eyes were awash with tears, but he nodded without saying anything.

I looked back at my mother. In her eyes I thought I saw the glimmer of her old self but I told myself it was just the the fire reflecting.

My mind stuttered with disfigured and incomplete thoughts. She would slow us down, but she was my mother. She was ill. She could get us caught… And my boy.

So we left, and I left her sitting in the chair, rocking by the fireplace. The click of the door closing almost broke a sob from me but I forced it down.

We were gone out through the dark of the night. We moved quick and sudden, towards the shelter and protection of the hills, as far as we could get from the road and the roar of the tanks.

The bright of the dawn was jus…