Jeiran- Say Sum Thin draft

8 Jun

AAt the Border, 2012.

 

The stewardess chases me down — the last passenger off the plane and hands me my forgotten watch. She’ll remember me. The only other native passenger. She’ll remember my flight number. She’ll remember that I a traitor, betrayed my country yet again. She’ll report back at the airport, back in the finally stormy October I left Ashgabat in.

 

Artykova is a familiar name there, you see.

 

I watch them all cross the border.My mother tells me not to speak. I look at the officer and my feet, dig themselves into the ground, with my pulse suddenly thick with guilt.  I am not manhandled, but my 1am fingerprinting and  tired face photoshoot says a lot when they are shown to me two years later. “This was you.” They will say, as if I am not her no longer. Ofcourse, they have some truth.

 

My mother told me not to speak. Incase I said something wrong. Two years later I am told I was noted for my good English. and we all understand my mother was not.The night I came here again, England was full of fireworks. Fireworks lookEd so strange from birdseye view.

 

Then, I remember in that dim waiting room, that faced the Birmingham runway  all that buzzed through my heart was– You know? There was a TV there. Whilst my mother slept on the bench I figured the remote and switched to bbc3. Eastenders never felt so soothing before now.It was cold, Ashgabat’s weather left us underdressed for the airport’s unheated October indoors.

 

The Average law abiding human, as his fingers printed 0 times throughout his life. Mine have been recorded seven times in several differnt locations.  

 

The officers auras. Stale. There is a reason they wanted this job. and it wasn’t to be nice. I guess because I was a child they weren’t so harsh to me compared to my mother.

 

and all that buzzed through my heart was–Hostility never felt so much like home.

 

__

Positively terrified of the story behind this piece. The flashbacks are all over the place and disjointed. Product of a freewrite. How does it feel?  Talk to me. Jeiran. 

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