A Rainbow of Hope

Of course it was raining as I stood in line, though by pressing hard against the wall I could avoid the shower and maintain my place from scary Latin Line-Cutters. Of course it was cold, but I had thoughtfully worn my Big Puffy Jacket and had my iPod cranked up to avoid talking to the jabbering lady behind me in line. I held my passport and various papers that will make me legal and waited for the policemen to allow us passage into the haven of the station. A continuing stream of immigrants walked by me and found their prospective places in line, each holding their shiny, colored passports. We were a multi-colored line of people far away from their homes, facing the police station and wondering what happens next.