Living with Ghosts

I wanted to name you Aya. Both the poets and the prophets would have protected your every step had we stayed behind. But I, your mother, met a fate far worse than your drunkard father who they found foaming at the mouth near the barracks. I am writing to tell you, I am sorry I brought us here to live forever between worlds. The first song, the only one I ever sang to you, Aikedollie, was a song schoolgirls sang about love. I could only remember parts of it, so I clung to the chorus, and named your heartbeat after it. Aya.

Abdel-Rasul, the eldest fisherman told us to pack our belongings and meet him behind the abandoned pier, to trust him to take us somewhere we could seek refuge in after part of our city sank underwater. Yet, he did not step onto the boat that…