Wednesday/Friday has rolled around once again. This is my 100 word submission for Friday Fictioneers inspired by sad news reported on the radio last week. Do they ever report good news? Every now and then, I suppose. On that note . . .
They’d left Myanmar on Nakaji’s fishing boat – just the three of them.
“Stupid idea,” Swimon had shouted.
“You got $300?” Nakaji had asked.
High seas, enormous freighters then the big storm. They lost everything – the child, each other.
Which way to go now? Nakaji fidgeted at the crossroads.
He recognized her star pasted to the pole – proving Swimon had made it here alive.
People hurried by whispering “Arrest” “Riff-raff”
What did that mean?
Across the street clogged with cars, he saw her beautiful face. Called, “Swimon!”
He stepped from the curb.
“No you don’t!” Police. Handcuffs. Swimon disappeared.
Up From the Ashes 