Traffic noise pours in through the window with the cold air and sharp lights.
She's brought lunch for her child in a Tupperware container. She peels off the lid and releases the scent of deli meat. For a moment, we can all taste the sandwich.
She prefers to straighten her hair, but I like it as it is, in an orange cloud around her head.
One of the young men speaks about visiting Syria on an idealistic mission of cultural outreach. The other shakes his head and tells him he'll get his throat cut out.
Being present in the moment, experiencing hope but relinquishing expectations.
The room is bathed in gray light. I linger for a few minutes, enjoying the calm.
As the gates close, they crowd in around me. There's an urgency to the chanting and murmuring.