Europe
The long ship turned with a sweep of the oars and drifted toward them.
Out of the breeze, the sail flapped like an old shawl. The red stripes were clear against the silt brown of the river. Sunlight glinted off the knobs of metal pounded into each black shield, piled in the bottom of the ship. Leather helmets and leather straps covered the invaders' faces, shading their eyes.
One sweep of the oars brought the ship to the beach.
I watch the flames eat our house. The roof has fallen in, and the front wall is down. Now everyone can see our home in its underwear. Neighbors pat me on the shoulder and talk as if I'm not there.
They had him. He fell to the floor. The big man kicked him in the ribs.
"He saw me!" said the big man. "He saw me. I know he did."
The boy scrambled backward, petrified, his back against the wall.
The big man pointed his gun, his finger tightening on the trigger.
