FugitivesThe uncomfortable journey aboard the motorcycle lasted one day and one night, with few, infrequent breaks: glasses of tea, given to them by old men who stood in their open doorways all day, the only thing keeping them alive and alert the fear of other attacks; a bit of rice and vegetables, eaten quickly before jumping back on the bike and taking off again.
Before taking her place behind Nizar, Alessandra gathered her skirt and pushed her hair under the light blue hijab. She was living totally in the present, giving no thought to what the future might hold for her. As she sat holding on to the man who’d taken it upon himself to bring her to safety, she realized just how suspended from everything this situation made her feel.
Daylight was slowly fading into the shadows of the nigh
