Desirina Boskovich | The Island

I was five when we moved to the island. Mommy and Daddy knew that the end was near. There were harbingers, omens, and dire events: poisoned apples, collapsing buildings, broken sidewalks, and the ever-present idiot boxes, a parade of heathens that prayed in tongues. A riot over papayas and saddle shoes broke out in the fifth quarter, and half the city burned. In a far-off desert, our soldiers fought the sand worms. | Copyright 2015 by Desirina Boskovich. Narrated by Roxanne Hernandez. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices