Tonight, the stars are very bright. The coast guard’s light is a white dot on the horizon. It might be rescue. It might be return. I don’t know which is scarier.
I write this to tell you the invention .
Today, I stopped being a number.
We are asking for your .
If you are reading this, and you have a house key on a ring in your pocket, please understand: I am not a burden. I am an export. refugee the diary of ali ismail
We are not asking for your pity. Pity is a hand that stays closed.
But tonight, I am a cartographer.
"These are Italian," he said. "I saved three years for these. My father never owned leather shoes."