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  • Andrew Borges


Each day new masses flow in. Familiar and unfamiliar faces disembark off the train, some to be seen, and others to remain unseen. Terror and confusion mark all new arrivals. Loud shouting in a foreign tongue herds them into groups over the crying pleas of the separated and distraught. Children from mothers. Husbands from wives. There is no asylum or sanctuary for anyone here. Here we are enclosed by walls that do not protect us. No amount of marching or shouting could bring our Walls of Jericho down, these walls that encapsulate death. We can only hope for salvation.

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