Pollos

Enrique was appalled when he saw his cousin’s pack. He walked around it, whistling.

“What do you have in here, Hectór? Furniture?”

The boy shrugged, or tried to against the weight of the straps.

“You know we’re walking, right?”

“Not all the way, Rico.”

“The boat takes us only to Salina Cruz. After that, the coyote will see about finding us a truck. No guarantees, though.”

Hectór looked close to tears.

“What’s so important you need to bring it to El Norte, cousin?”

The boy sniffed. “The photographs from the fireplace. I don’t want to forget our family.”

“We won’t.”

 

Friday Fictioneers

18 comments

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  1. Iain Kelly

    Good story, tugged at the heart strings. My brain couldn’t make the leap between the title and the story though – Did they lose their chickens? Are they being chickens by leaving?

  2. pennygadd51

    A good story highlighting an important aspect of the plight of refugees; the difficulty of retaining your own culture. Try as you might, you will meet so many obstacles that the memories will fade or be discarded. Hector will soon learn this bitter truth. Powerful writing, Josh.

  3. Lynn Love

    You’ve managed to convery such heartbreak in so few words, the plight of the displaced everywhere. Taking a bit of home with you is the best thing. Great writing Josh

  4. The Urban Spaceman

    I like how fleshed out and ‘real’ these characters are… I sympathise with their plight and want to know more about them, even though I’ve only had a hundred words of them. Nicely written!

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