Not Too Bad by wind rider

Not Too Bad

Not Too Bad

The new dwellings stand in neat rows along the shore, adorned with pearls and gems and draperies. They are of stone-work, tall and stately, especially the “important” ones.

They are alien to me.

In our homeland, we lived under the stars and hid under the trees when it rained. No roof, no wall, free.

In the Faring Isle, each family built a small hut for themselves, made of branches and leaves, wherever they would.

But here…

Atar looks at me, smiling meaningfully. I nod. Yes, at least I have my parents and siblings, one familiar aspect in this foreign land.