You may get a drabble yet, but this is a possible/probably opening to the Ellis Island one:
Jack kept his head down along with everyone else, staring at the floor as he waited for his name to be called. Well, not his name, of course, nor the assumed one that he'd become so fond of. He'd ditched the accent too, figuring that an American trying to emigrate into America wasn't going to sound too convincing. The room was crammed with people, dirty and tired from the long voyage, and the air was thick with nerves and the smell of too many bodies in too small a space. He felt safe here, packed in with all the others. For once he wasn't going to be stared at for his accent, his looks, his manners. Here, no-one cared about anything but themselves.
A name was called and a man stood up, a thin dark-haired woman clinging to his arm and a sleeping child in his arms. Jack watched as they made their way across the huge room, jealousy and pity swirling through his mind. It would be harder, surviving in this new country with a family to support as well as everything else. But he watched how the man cradled the child and how the woman rested her head against his shoulder and he found himself having to look away, back at the floor.
Burying the feelings, he forced himself to stay calm. Part of him, the part that he'd relied on to keep him sane these past twnety years, wondered if he shouldn't have acquired a wife and child to give him a better cover story. The corners of his mouth twitched with the twisted humour. Families were for life, not just for Christmas.
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Date: 2007-06-20 03:00 pm (UTC)Jack kept his head down along with everyone else, staring at the floor as he waited for his name to be called. Well, not his name, of course, nor the assumed one that he'd become so fond of. He'd ditched the accent too, figuring that an American trying to emigrate into America wasn't going to sound too convincing. The room was crammed with people, dirty and tired from the long voyage, and the air was thick with nerves and the smell of too many bodies in too small a space. He felt safe here, packed in with all the others. For once he wasn't going to be stared at for his accent, his looks, his manners. Here, no-one cared about anything but themselves.
A name was called and a man stood up, a thin dark-haired woman clinging to his arm and a sleeping child in his arms. Jack watched as they made their way across the huge room, jealousy and pity swirling through his mind. It would be harder, surviving in this new country with a family to support as well as everything else. But he watched how the man cradled the child and how the woman rested her head against his shoulder and he found himself having to look away, back at the floor.
Burying the feelings, he forced himself to stay calm. Part of him, the part that he'd relied on to keep him sane these past twnety years, wondered if he shouldn't have acquired a wife and child to give him a better cover story. The corners of his mouth twitched with the twisted humour. Families were for life, not just for Christmas.
"What are you laughing at?"