April 1, 2025

I headed to the immigration office for an appointment during my lunch break even though there was a high chance that my break wouldn’t be long enough to get anything done. And I was right: there was already a line and I needed to wait for my ticket to be called. I thought about needing to tell my manager about taking extra time off today.

When it finally got to my turn, I was directed to a counter situated in the half of the room that was dedicated to processing fugitives. I stood in front of the raised counter with hesitation until the pair of workers on the other side assured me that I was in the right place. I awkwardly handed them a packet of half-filled out application documents. I had failed to complete them before the appointment but told them I wanted them to “take a look” anyways.

They looked through the forms before glancing up at me to ask if I was “that boy from 5 years ago.” Apparently they had recognized me somehow.