By Mercedes Freedman
So much sea for so long. All in the name of a sweet new life. Only vaguely did they remember the home they left behind, for some the greenness of the forest, for others the silvery desert.
They arrived at their destination, like others before them, when the yellow sun started its upward journey into the sky. As the dugout canoe touched land, someone waited to count them: how many of them walked with their bare feet on the sandy beach; how many floated, pulled towards the edge of the water by the coming and going of the sea.
Those who, by sheer luck, were able to feel the sand under their feet, knelt and hugged the land of honey that would give them a new life. The others lay on the beach. Their eyes, open as if looking at the sky above, carried the pain of missing a future and dying in a strange land. Far away from forests and deserts, the only thing left was the taste of the salt of the sea.
Salt and Honey, un micro-relato en inglés (traducción de Miel y Sal)