Micro Monday: "Peace to All"
Peace to All
He looked up at me, his eyes sleepy and teeth bared in a gapped grin, uttering, “Soon-gol-yan.”
Peace to all, in the local patois. A blessing or, given the current circumstances, a plea.
“You must do what you can,” he insisted, in English this time, his eyes suddenly opening wide. “I beg you.”
“I’ll do what I can, Neya,” I assured him, or hoped I was assuring. He had every reason to suspect indifference, as I would soon be going back to the mainland, like the others--to my civilized life, with all thoughts of Martinia far from my mind.