Small hands held onto the parcel of belongings; the strength almost gone from the fragile body. She nervously pulled the tarpaulin back and took a quick peak over the top of the rowing boat.
Only the endless grey and the oars floating uselessly in the sea.
Water sloshed at her feet and her thin frame shivered with cold and the fear of discovery. As the decrepit craft drifted aimlessly in the currents she prayed for salvation from the terror and the torture.
The sound of an engine grew louder.
‘Please be South Koreans!’