Tag Archives: work

Please don’t let them purge us

Please, this just can’t be happening. Please just listen.

They took my neighbors four days ago. I don’t know how many others they took already, but they keep coming.

I’m from Furtwood, Alberta. We have at least four hundred people here, but there’s not much else around. If you look on the map, we’re just a few miles North of Pelican Lake and Northeast of the 813. But we’re being purged. I swear to God, we’re being purged. A month ago we were on Google Maps everything, but now we’re just gone. They’ve photoshopped the satellite image. Fucking hell, you can still see the beginning of the roads, but our town is just gone.

There were lights in the sky three weeks ago. Nothing really spectacular, but a lot of people here saw them. It was a formation like an arrow, at least twelve or so, but they were too far to see the shape of the individual ones. They flew by around 9pm and it was dark as hell and it’s freezing here, so there were not many people out, but they were bright and blinking, so some people saw them and told others and at least a hundred people saw them. There was even a discussion on our amateur radio channel, that it might be aliens or military and one of the guys on air said he was sure that he saw one of them going down; that one of the lights broke formation and went down.

We’re all scared. We’re so fucking scared. People don’t dare to admit anymore that they saw them, but before they came I talked to several of my neighbors and they all saw them. My sister called me from the other end of town when they were in the sky, her son had seen them. And now my sister’s family is missing too. Continue reading

Blue Water

Warning: potential trigger



There were three of us. One was from Kinshasa, Congo, like me, but we just met in that city of sand. The other was from Sudan, but don’t ask me whether it was the North or the South, I doubt even he knew which part.

It took me twelve weeks to get enough money to pay for the car – sometimes begging, sometimes selling refilled water bottles to the few tourists. One of them even came back, shouting at me. I think he wanted me to give his money back. Maybe there was some sand in the water or something of that sort. He gave up after a while, when I shrugged and shook my head.

Twelve weeks and I had enough. I suddenly felt as if everything was possible. It took me nearly a year to get to Egypt. I had never even heard that name before I reached the border, all I had been told was to keep going North.

North is safety. North is wealth. You can live there, that’s what we were told. We saw those pictures, in the magazines and on big posters and drawings on the walls. People in pools. We knew they had water, but how did they get their water blue? I never understood. All I knew is that I wanted to go there; that I couldn’t watch anymore while my own mother kept ploughing the hard, red soil with a plough even more broken than her back. Continue reading

“We went for grandpa.”

It’s now been two months since his father died. We had been to the funeral and I knew that losing his father must have been painful. Still he just held our son’s hand and sat there silently. No tears, no sadness on his face. Just a calm face with a hint of concern. A few times he looked down to Ian and nodded to himself.

We watched as they closed the casket and walked in the first row when they carried it out to the grave. They lowered it inside. There was another speech. I threw a flower and my husband and son threw soil.

On the way back he didn’t say a single word.

Josue had never been the type to show his emotions but he had been close to his father, closer than any other father-son pair I can think of. They had spent many weekends on camping trips and their “men tours.”

Of course it all makes sense now.

I wanted to give him the space he needed. For a week I waited for him to make a move, for him to let his grieve out. Then I asked how he felt.

He never screamed at me before, at least not like that. Not with so much anger. Continue reading

The Knife is Still in My Lap

I sit here shivering with my back against the wall. The knife is still in my lap. I can’t even leave this room. I just don’t know what to do anymore.

It was all because I flunked school. Fuck school. Lock kids into a tiny and smelly room in the best time of their life. And then make sure every small mistake determines their future. A gray and brown building filled with incompetent teachers and kids so horribly raised that not just them but also their parents deserve a good spanking.

That’s why I flunked. I couldn’t go there. I couldn’t stand the incompetence and the boring, dull, dragging hours on broken chairs. I felt my heart clench whenever I just so much as looked at the front door. So I didn’t go. And look where that got me. Continue reading

I would give everything just to forget

The fever hit me without a warning. I got up in the morning, had breakfast and went to the flea market. After a good look at a lot of old junk – books, games, old computers and even a massage chair that was so uncomfortable that actually hurt rather than massaged my neck – I bought nothing except two old recipe books. I bought cake from a cheerful young man at a small stall.

I was on the bus, with the books in a cotton bag on the seat to my left, when I noticed sweat dripping from my forehead.

By the time the recorded voice read the name of my stop the world was behind a thin white veil. I felt my heavy head, the cold Buddha necklace dangling against my chest and the shaking bus. Barely able to hold my balance I got off my seat. My hand tried to grab the cotton bag but missed it two or three times. The bus doors were already closing and reopened when I banged my head against them. The bus driver called something in my direction that I didn’t understand.

I don’t remember walking home. All I remember is how heavy my feet felt and that with every passing moment the world became more blurry. Continue reading