《Syria Girl》Patterns and petrol stations

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That repeating pattern became my life for the next sixteen hours, every time I spotted a cop trailing me, I’d throw myself and Henry off the road. Twice I had to stop near petrol stations to get refills and both times I thought about sleeping. But I knew that I had to get as much distance between me and the city as possible.

Plus, every kilometre that ticked over on the scooter’s speedometer felt like one kilometre closer to Ayamin. It was only as I was approaching the afternoon of my second day that I had to stop. I found myself wobbling into the lanes next to me and was woken from my half-sleep by the horn of a truck, I only just swerved myself and Henry out of its way before it squashed us.

Henry and I crawled under the shelter of a lone tree in some farmer’s paddock off to the side of the highway. While Henry rested his engine, I dug into the bag Gianina had given me and pulled out a ton of Italian food.

After demolishing eight slices of an enormous pizza and washing it down with water from a nearby creek, I crawled under a woollen blanket and tried to fall asleep. Roots beneath my back meant I kept shifting around, trying to find a more comfortable position.

I thought about Ayamin, I wondered where she would be right now, and if she’d got my message.

The moon arrived. I thought about how strange it was that Aya and I could be lying on the same stretch of road, potentially just a few kilometres away from each other and looking at the same moon.

At some point, I fell asleep.

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