Walking through a train station in a foreign land. They’re checking id’s. I show them my U.S. driver’s license, and they ask for my passport. I tell them I don’t have it, and run. They chase me out of the station, and I run around a building and find a place to hide. They don’t find me, and I sneak out, across a street, and into a market. I walk around, keeping an eye out for police-I hear sirens and a helicopter, but they’re not close.
My exciting life, this place