THE JOURNEY 

By Tessa Harvey

    It was a beautiful day as Thomas walked along, grateful for yesterday's tasty chicken broth and the cheese sandwich and water bottle he had kept for today. He heard larks singing high in the sky, such an inspiring sound, liquid music.

    A flower caught his eye. The young man was amazed. It was a small yellow globe flower shining in the grass, a buttercup but curled around. He thought of all the strife involving so many in the world and prayed. He was on sick leave, but would have to return in a few weeks to the war.

    That night he had strange dreams. He dreamed that his parents were once again in that small life-raft. In his dream he saw them asleep, battered, wounded, weakened by their ordeal. A woman, dark-featured with long black hair was towing two small children. With the desperate strength of a mother, she pushed the larger child into the raft, who then helped her mum with the little one. The woman cried for help, to be with her children, but the water crashed against her. In his dream he prayed and the woman, bleeding but no longer sinking drifted on her back.

    He thought she was rescued. He awoke to the roar of planes and bombs and the terrible smell of smoke on the wind.