Homecoming (1).

Red writing. Bold font.

No:
Soap.
Shampoo.
Toothpaste.
Mouthwash.

I’m looking around at all the people on line – colours, ages, fashions – barefoot.

I’m sad.
Not because terrorists hijack planes.
Not because the government is ‘taking away my rights.’

Maybe because I am home and everyone around me isn’t smiling.

Maybe because I grew up here. Israel’s always been a security zone. And here I am, back in ‘merica, and I’ve entered another world.

But the stewardesses still wear pretty faces and neck scarves.