The World We've Created

Only in George Bush's world would this constitute "good progress"

"Papers." I give him my papers. He isn't looking at them. Why, then, did he ask for them??

Another walks up. "You're a doctor, aren't you? I remember you. You work at the Nursing Home. I know you because I used to work there." His eyes dark were looking straight into mine, but they were mocking, not serious.

Until he brought up the "doctor" matter, I was OK. Just another checkpoint. I took out my papers sixteen times on my way home the other day. But doctors were different. Targeted by kidnappers for ransom money, and sometimes killed. But more dangerous, they were targeted by people with an agenda that says "Harass Iraqi doctors until they flee; if they don't run, kill them."

"No, you must be mistaking me for someone else." Sweet smile. Heart pounding. "I'm a teacher, not a doctor." Keeping my hands steady and relaxed on the steering wheel was a feat.

"Why are you lying? I know you. Don't lie to us!!" His piercing eyes still mocking me, daring me to say what I wanted to say, that they were toying with their prey, that there was something very wrong here. The "us" worried me. Who were they?? Uniforms don't mean anything nowadays.

"Pull up to the side of the road" Trying to move my foot to comply with the "order," I realized the extent of my fear, my foot wouldn't budge. It was numb, dead.

Somehow I manage to move the car to one side of the road.

He took my papers and walked to the parked pickup vehicles a few meters away. It looked as if he were discussing the matter with his colleagues.

I looked up at the sky, the abode of the mighty Creator and prayed and prayed, and prayed.

If any digging was to take place into my identity and my profession, then I was dead anyway. NOT a doctor, no, a correspondent for an AMERICAN news agency!!

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