The narrator recalls an intense obsession with the refugee camp in Thailand, marked by vivid memories of their cramped living conditions and daily life. Dreams intertwine reality with imagination, questioning whether the camp truly existed or was merely a figment of memory. Decades later, they reflect on a family photograph from their arrival as refugees, highlighting their mother's exhaustion and the oppressive weight of their identity as numbered individuals. The desire to reassure the family captured in the photograph emphasizes the emotional burden carried over time.
Finding the refugee camp again became an obsession, wrapping itself around my consciousness like tendrils reaching for the elusive January light.
When sleep finally overtook me, I would dream of the open sky folding in on itself, children roaming through curtains of monsoon rain.
In a black-and-white photograph documenting our first moment as refugees, my mother holds a placard with the number "BT001401." Her lips are pressed together, sealing tension.
Every time I look at this photo, I want to reassure this new family that they will be all right, that they are not alone.
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