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Mino rested the oars and flexed his tired muscles. The Mediterranean waves gently rocked his boat. One more day and his mammoth fifty day fund-raising expedition would come to a successful conclusion.

He had encountered setbacks – gun-toting fanatics in Al Hwaiz, immigration officials in Karatas, hooligans in Girne and narcotic squads in Antalya – creating enough delays and self-doubts that drove Mino to the point of quitting. But he didn’t and he wouldn’t.

His mission was very important.

He checked his GPS and nodded with satisfaction on realizing that he was close. He flashed the pre-arranged signal with his torch. Soon, a sliver of smoke went up the chimney of a decrepit shack on the beach.

Feeling reinvigorated, Mino guided his boat to the shore. His wife Xenia ran towards him with a question.

Mino removed the sheet covering the base of the boat. Two small, timid pairs of eyes looked back at him.

Mino smiled, “We have arrived, kids.”

They would bring them up as their own. First, he had an expedition to complete.

Note: This piece of fiction is in response to the 125th edition of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers hosted weekly by Priceless Joy.

Image credit: Louise (The Storytellers Abode)

Word Count: 175

Find other entries to this challenge here.

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