An Immigrant’s Dream #flashfiction #history #statueofliberty

poetry penned in moon dust

the-boat-and-miss-liberty

“I see her far away in the distance.” a youngun called.

The tall looming lady was a welcome sight after long weeks at sea.

“Hot meals will be a welcome relief after weeks of soapy soup,” the weary matron thought.

The pretty girl, in the gown, that was beginning to show its wear, wore a tight smile. ” I hope he likes me; there is nothing to go back to if I’m sent back.”

“Will there really be work for the likes of a scrawny boy with naught but two pence to rub together?”

The Lady distanced herself from the expectations.

Today at Friday Fictioneers Rochelle has up whipping up stories on the sea entering New York harbor.

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