HAKIM

Two fares, a woman and a man, in the span of fifteen minutes, thought Hakim, resetting his meter. No time for lunch today. He looked out his window at the barbed-wire fence that separated Sulwyn tower from the masses. One day I’ll leave this god-forsaken city and get a real job, he thought, One day I’ll use my Ph. D!

Why hadn’t the immigration officers explained that his education meant nothing over here?

Stupid. This was all so stupid. The pay was awful and every day was the same. Pick up people at Sulwyn Tower. Drop off people at Sulwyn Tower.

A little girl skipped by the driver side window. She was holding someone’s hand. Hakim flipped down the shade and looked at the faded family picture he had placed there four months ago. What he needed now was his son’s hand, holding his. But little Kaliq was an ocean away, waiting with his mother---waiting until his father had enough money to bring everyone to America: The land of milk and honey.