Hazy

Hazy
Most of the photos she took of her friends were hazy, because she always laughed while capturing them.
Most of the pictures she drew were not colored, because she wanted her loved one to color them with her.
Most of the nights she woke up worried, because he was working till a late hour.
Most of the days she looked tired, because she was nursing her newborn twins.
Most of the time she felt cold, because she was not used to the freezing cold weather of Europe.
She came from a warmer place, a place she called home.
She had to leave it because war tore it apart.
She embarked on an uncertain fate to save her little family.
She knew how to swim, which saved her, unlike her sisters.
She left her homeland hoping for a better future.
She heard racist slurs on her way to pick up her eldest son from school.
She was denied a job because she wore a headscarf.
She worked as a freelance photographer, but once she took pictures of a group friends, it reminded her of her neighborhood friends in Syria, and her hazy group pictures.

 She thought of her friends back home and smiled.




Dedicated to my Syrian cousins and friends.

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