DEATH OF HOPE
By Neel Anil Panicker
Happiness is a relative term. Take, for instance, Tomoe Murao.
One would be deceived by those sparkling eyes that smile from behind rimless glasses, the delicately hair brushed bob of hair that crowns a face attractive enough to prise open doors and hearts.
At 55, she’s a happy woman.
Happy that she’s alive, happy that every morning she gets to see the vast Pacific Ocean, the sound of the gurgling waves music to her ears, happy that the little convenience store that she runs alongside her husband is up and running, even if it means a trickle of patrons stepping into the road facing shop that doubles that doubles up as their residence.
But then she’s also an intensely unhappy woman. Sad because her entire extended family, or whatever was left of it, has abandoned nee was forced to abandon Naraha, the town of their ancestors, the town they called their own until the nuclear accident.
‘I hope they’re back’, she says. But there’s no hope in that voice.
©neelanilpanicker2017 #whatpegmansaw #fiction #flash #shortstory #fukushima #japan #radiation #nuclear
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