Sana stopped walking to work along the main street.
They’d be there. Men and women. Silent, hostile glares or shouting abuse.
“Come here! I’ve got some letters to post.” Laughter.
“I bet you wear that cos you’re an ugly cow underneath it.”
“Why don’t you return to your own country?”
“We don’t want your sort here.”
“Terrorist!
Like they thought it their right and she should be ashamed.
She daren’t shout back or tell them how she felt.
Persecuted.
Vilified.
Furious.
Women had been attacked for that – even killed.
So Sana walked an extra mile to work to avoid them.
EM-Drabbles – Thirty

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