Trapped, impatiently gazing over the side of the fragile rocking pallet she thought of as a boat. Uncertainly, telling herself she must be nearly there using a wet stick to push herself through the never ending calm sea.
It had been four strenuous days at sea trying to escape her war torn country. The sun bounced off her ancient fragile skin. Her pitch black, heavy-lidded haunted eyes lit up as she seen a patch of land, emerge from the horizon. She pulled herself into the island just as far as she could crawl.
Her tear filled eyes opened wishfully as she came to the realisation that she had done it. Scrambling across the hot, dry sand she picked up a ripe illuminating mango and indulged in it while lying in the accomplishment of escaping. Her deep river like wrinkles absorbing the hydration of the sweet well deserved mango.
Gratefully, she sat up with the realisation that she did not need to return to her shambled country.
All of a sudden, animal like humans emerged from the trees, wearing blood red, yellow crosses painted on their chests with feathers crowns on their heads. They screeched at her and ran forward. They claimed this island and she had to escape again.
Clumsily clambering back onto her boat, she starts heading back to Mexico with the sun bouncing off her back. She can feel the sun absorbing the juices of the mango, and she is exactly back in the position she started in.