The Journey or The End

I shift uncomfortably, jammed between boxes and packing crates, my limbs tangled into ratchet-ribbons holding everything down, and anxious sweat slicks across my brow and cheeks, stinging my eyes, trickling down my neck and soaking my t-shirt.Trapped in the dark with only the soft, weeping murmurs of the others, and the scent of too-close, unwashed…