Originally published in Friday Flash Fiction
She pushed a red pin through Sandakan. Once, they had both dreamed of seeing orangutans in the wild. She had made it happen. She had stood on fertile ground and watched them feast and frolic inside a breathing jungle. When it was time to leave, she had flown over palm oil plantations encircling the rainforest, encroaching on the unaware.
Enola released the pin and stepped back to study the full map. Amidst a sea of blue “Our Travels” pins, the red stood solitary. She thought of the romping apes, oblivious to the lurking threat, and cried the tears of communion.