Sinjar still the same, the road as dusty as before, even the reek of wormwood as nauseating, but when Nisreen approached their house she knew that everything had changed.
It’s windows were like vacant eyes, a door whined in the persistent wind.
In her heart she had always known that men and boys had been murdered while Erum and mother had been sold… or worse.
Why did only she escape?
Sighing she entered the house when suddenly a voice calling:
“Nisreen, it’s you… “
Erum and a baby… a blue-eyed boy.
Nisreen flinched but never hesitated.
“Good, we need a man”.
The picture reminded me of some of the pictures I have seen from the Yazidi villages that were invaded by ISIS and I imagine the huge problems for the survivors. Especially those poor women who had children with their captors and are now not allowed to keep them to be accepted if they want to get back to their families.
Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who follow Rochelle and write to the same picture every week. The only restriction is 100 words and to read and comment as well as you can. I usually have a hard time to read a lot before Sunday. But I try to get back to you all.
May 8, 2019