TITLE: Satellite Hearts
GENRE: YA Sci-fi/Dystopian
I’m whistling numbers; it’s like pulling string between my teeth. My feet kick at loose pebbles on the dusty road to home. I wear black, blend into the dark so ministers of the night, baloi, don’t see me. Supernatural and human, they can both cause harm. I can’t stop whistling the tune—22.9906° S, 25.1557° E, the coordinates that define the sleeping location of my country,
I don’t want to denote it the common cliché term ‘hot and arid’ because I hate to be another stereotype of limited description. It’s landlocked. It’s suffocated. It’s variety. It reminds me of the ocean, not in the literal sense, nor rather the freedom eloquence, but like the ocean it has borderlines you can’t see. You can feel them everywhere you go like an invisible wall, upright and sucking in all the air and,suffocation is landlocked. I don’t have the slightest idea of how cold, fresh air tastes. But the forest air, perfumed by the birches, is wild; it has travelled far enough into the clear sky to taste freedom. I’d hold on to it tight, fly away and never come back.
I wipe my shoes as I enter
is a caricature of a pretend-home family. A pretend-home family likes to think the world is eternally hugged with warmth and hope. They love to tickle the air with fake laughs, but each time a laugh makes it up my throat I suddenly feel the opposite. When I enter, I panic—mama’s not alone.