PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays
She stood on the other side of the thin barbed fence, with one of her twins and skeletal
belongings, meekly partitioning the land with hatred and religious divide. The authorities
had stamped her papers and thrust it on her face to face a life in another land.
She stood to gaze at the last time, which she had called home. The soil, clouds and
vegetation on either side of the partition were the same. The border drawn on the land
was bleeding her heart.
Did her husband and son make it to this side? She knew not. Will time heal?
FRIDAY FICTIONEERS. Thanks you Rochelle Wisoff-Fields