Embassy

The tricolour flag was flowing on top of the building. I looked up as I approached the steps, paused to draw strength as the flag of my country billowed in the light summer’s breeze.

‘Ready?’ Matty asked.

‘Ready.’ I wasn’t though.

He clasped my hand; we walked up the steps. The structure of the edifice stretched upwards, eclipsing the sun’s glare. A chill descended over me as we got to the front doors. I shivered.

‘You cold?’ Matty was already shrugging out of his jacket.

‘A bit.’ I smiled gratefully as he slung it around my shoulders. He pulled me in close, kissed my forehead.

‘Gonna be right with you, all the way,’ he said.

I nodded. I felt my last cup of tea slosh inside me and I worried it would make its way up and out at an inopportune moment.

‘Let’s do this, then,’ I said mustering all the false bravado I could manage.

‘Everything will be alright,’ Matty said. ‘We’ll get your passport back.’

‘The flight home’s in a week. D’ya think we’ll make it?’

‘Only one way to find out.’

Photo by Samson on Unsplash