As the ash piled up on the sixth day, they finally decided to head south.
“Por favor,” they made their son practice as they drove.
They avoided El Paso because the last radio broadcasts they had received said it was impossible to cross there.
So they found a seemingly desolate stretch of the wall. They approached with rope ladders slung between them, slapping their thighs, and he winced, remembering his vote in the previous election.
On the other side, he looked back over his shoulder at the six-foot high graffiti: “No les des de comer a los Americanos!”
Richard Helmling’s work has appeared in English in Texas, The Rio Grande Review, Fiction Brigade, Black Heart Magazine and Arsenic Lobster.