Countdown

Another year has come and gone. Hakim did not observe any significant change when looking at himself in the mirror. The ageing body in plain sight, without the armour of the crisp uniform holding its shape, was here to stay. He chuckled, causing his belly to tremble. Patting himself, he cast a glance at the raised figure in the bed. The wife told him she'd be sleeping early tonight. They are not ones to join in the festivities.

Slowly, Hakim lowered himself on his side of the bed so as not to disturb her. He can hear the muffled music of partying through the walls, maybe a few doors down? Or from the floor above? It's unbelievable how people here can be so carefree, flaunting their defiance in the face of advice from the officials. If this was back home...

No. Home is here now. Freedom of expression, freedom of actions, freedom of thoughts. They just need to keep their heads down, straddling the cracks between the social majority and their own life. Mindful not to do anything to jeopardize the citizenship application in a few years. Then, only then, can they breathe a sigh of relief."