'The Fall of Jaffna' by Tehnuka Ilanko

Amma wore all her gold jewellery and made bundles of rice. Theepavali meant celebrations with sweets and fireworks on the porch, but this year they were walking to Vadamarachchi instead.

On the second day, Parvathi’s red sandals broke. The government fireworks were loud. Appa, weeping, carried her on his hip, cooking pot over his shoulder, ahead of the crowds snaking down the road.

Parvathi spotted a plane, like her Australian cousins came on. She tugged Amma’s sari, excited to show the big bird flying from it. But Amma only shouted, and pulled her to the ground.