One from the archive

That was how I first saw you. I was eating seafood linguine and drinking white wine in a market café and you were sat huddled over a blue rucksack. At first I tried not to look, unsure if you were waiting for someone. But then I saw the purple hat on the floor.

I approached with a few feeble euros and put them in your hat. Now, I know your name, Angelica, and I know you are from Bulgaria. Where you trying to tell me your story, when you held up four fingers? Is that how long you have been a refugee? Is it how many children you have? Or how long since?…

We held hands for a short time, and we looked at each other. What else could I do to let you know that, Angelica you are not a category or a religion, you are my sister, whom I only noticed for a short time.

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