The queue.

He wiped the sweat off his brows as he looked up at the glaring sun. He squinted his eyes in the heat and looked at the number of people ahead. “200 people to go”, he muttered to himself. He looked over his shoulder as he heard a scuffle and saw that a little fight had broken out between a young lad and an older man. “Get out!!! this was my spot”, yelled the older man. “No way, old fart. Get back in line. This is all first come first serve. You snooze, you loose.”, retorted the younger boy.

With a wry smile, he shook his head. “Desparate times, indeed”

The queue was moving slowly but the good news was that he could hear assuring words up ahead. He looked towards the tree on his right and smiled at the sight of his kids. They were playing hopscotch in the burning sun and seemed to not care about the heat. His wife was sitting on the side, holding her head in her hands and just staring into space. He whistled. It was a special whistle between the two of them, meant to catch each other’s attention. His wife looked up in his direction. “Oh! how much I love her… “, he thought to himself as he waved her and in gestures asked her to relax. It is going to be a while.

He was now moving up. He could feel the people behind him getting anxious and pressing themselves up against him. He couldn’t do anything. They were his brothers now. He couldn’t yell back or ask them to back off, as he would have done, back home…

back home in Syria.

It has been 6 weeks. Mansood*, his wife Zaria* and his two boys have made the perilious journey from their hometown in Syria to this place, that they want to call home, Berlin. Mansood couldn’t stop thanking all his stars for having his entire family besides him despite all the perils they faced on their way here. The hunger, the thirst, the heat, the dinghy, the moment when Zaria almost died in Turkey… he shudders at the memories that were still fresh.

But it is all over now. They were now in a place that felt safe. And comfortable. And yes, the kids are still in the same clothes and playing on the dusty pavement and yes, Zaria is feeling like there is no hope now, but Mansood, Mansood is feeling positive. He is feeling alive. He is feeling like it is all going to be ok because he is now only 150 people away from getting asylum in Germany and rebuilding a life with his family.

He smiled as he wiped the sweat from his brows again and crossed his fingers.

*these are not real people but made up for the sake of this short story

Note: But this could very well be the story of someone, being hopeful, right now in Germany or anywhere else in the EU.

This post is part of Marathon Bloggers challenge.