The boys gathered around the hydrant as darkness fell. What’s your nationality? one asked her. Stillness descended like night on the wheat field, and she understood the question carried a weight she didn’t understand. You know, he prodded, where are your ancestors from? She wondered at their silence. She wasn't sure where she was from.
It's Friday, so time for a flash, fiction that is. If you write flash fiction, condense it into 55 words and then let the G-Man know. It's fun. It's Friday. Where're you from???