FRIDAY FICTIONEERS 29.9.21 WHERE IS HOME
The verger notices a glimmer of light in the church window, so late in the evening .
The heavy door opens with a groan and four faces are revealed in the gloom. They turn towards him, their eyes wide with terror fix on him.
They look like a family group, two adults, two children who seem poised to run.
‘We have no shared language’ he thinks, and ‘this church is a place of sanctuary.’
He softens his voice, mimes eating and drinking.
He senses their pure terror and for a second tunes into the enormity of exile. He fetches bread and milk and holds it out. After a pause, the
father takes the bread and shares it with his family.
