Flight and exile


Flight and exile

In the world through which I travel, I am endlessly making myself.

In a precarious rowboat, miserable African immigrants are pilled on and handed over to the unpredictable sea.

On the mast there is the picture of a student fleeing Africa in hopes of finding a better life.

On the water float the remainders of an anonymous ship.

On the left balancing on a small island attacked by the sea, the two-headed character is torn apart by contradictory feelings.

His only luggage is a mobile phone that will help him stay in touch with his country.

With his other hand he scours the bottomless ocean of misery, ignorance and denial.

The water is tinted with the blood of past, present and future martyrs. In the sky is a helicopter,

the new guard dog of rich countries flies through the night in search of stowaways.



,,,/ extract chapter 15
© W. A. W