Through the tinted windows
of the bus, I could imagine that I was staring out through snow fields
instead of the infinite desert.
I was ill-prepared to endure the
August heat, which was upwards of 115 degrees. I tried to rest and
began to visualize walking among the ruins while pane after pane of
beige emptiness passed the window. Suddenly, an interruption; a sign
for the lone crossroads between Bagdad and Amman. And just as quickly,
it was behind me and I was back to the stillness.