The Refugees


The small child stood in the midst of the bustling platform, clutching her doll to her chest. The eerie orange light that illuminated the writhing melee caught the tear tracks on her face. The cries of hysterical women and children were interspersed with the harsh barks of men and groans of tortured metal, highlighted by screams from behind. A passing woman caught the little girl's hand, pulling her towards one of the giant transports being loaded. The child seemed to wake from her stupor, crying out. "Mama!"

"If your mother's here, we'll find her," the strange woman promised, and the girl passively allowed herself to be hustled up the ramp, doll held close. All around, heavy metal ramps laboriously closed. The lumbering transports lifted up towards the smoke-stained sky, away from the burning metropolis and the despair of those left behind.