JOURNEY
“I lift up my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from?” Psalm 121:1
“Wake up,” a man whispered, shaking me out of my fitful and troubled sleep. I blinked in confusion, wondering why my shirt was soaked with sweat and why my body was rushing through space.
“Hurry,” the man urged. “We don’t have much time.”
I was not awake enough to remember why I was crouched beside crates of coal. My mind felt foggy, and my body still trembled slightly from some trauma I couldn’t recall. The man opened the door to the train car, letting in a blast of salty air. I had never been to the coast before. The smell startled me awake.
“We have to jump,” Shin explained above the roaring of the train. He reached out for my hand, and when I took it I recoiled at his touch as if by some latent in
