Behind the barbed wire fence. And wait. For the dogs. For the guards. For the men with guns. For the shouting. To be deported. For the end. Of it all.
Before you go, look up. Into the windows. You might see a face. Wondering. Half smiling. A person standing in the warm room. Looking down on you.
Establish eye contact. Do not look down. Maybe you get a cup of hot tea. Or just the recognition you are still human.
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