It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The favorite was a shoo-in. The bookie had told Tom that he would make enough for a wedding ring for his wife Talia who had waited years  as kids, a mortgage, and other bills had to be paid first. He was determined to buy the small diamond and white pearl creation from the fancy jeweler’s shop in Hill Glade, the upper crust district in their city. Talia had seen it countless times as she delivered food from her parent’s deli to the endless customers who partitioned themselves behind white walls and gleaming glass spires.  The rest of the funds would be used for a rainy day and a special celebratory dinner. 

The deli was left to Tali by her parents who raised her as American, and had died only two years prior to the election. When Talia and Tom married they had no idea the secret that she unknowingly had. For she was not an American by birth and had accompanied her parents as a three-year-old on the dangerous journey to America. Her parents  insisted that she had been born here and her parent’s words were bond. 

After work he had called her to tell her to be ready as they were going out. She hadn’t been to Ringo’s as it was too expensive and the kids had always come first. However, since their daughter had graduated they were now empty-nesters and looking forward to retirement.

Talia had sensed in Tom’s voice the surprise that awaited her as she finished cleaning the last counter top in the deli. Though their lives had had ups, downs,  and in-betweens, she felt certain that her golden years were upon her.

 As she made one last sweep of the deli she heard a soft tinkle from the front door and ran to welcome home her hero. Instead of laughter there were tears, screams, a clink and nothing. 

The men in black had swept the small square deli up and down. They had checked Talia’s face with a list and having satisfied themselves that she was the only one they proceeded to the center. One officer identified as T wore  a suit and tie, checked his watch, took a drag from a cigarette  and proceeded to flick it on the ground all the while thinking that it wasn’t fair for an illegal to have such a nice little business. Why should she be rich when he was barely making a living? Why should these brownies be afforded a space when real Americans needed help? 

It was time for a revolution and the starting point was the area in which the deli was located. 

He had six more blocks to clear and the newest President wasn’t going to look too lightly on failure. The new guy, who had come into the race as a dark horse,  had wanted to make the country what it used to be and more. T was with this guy and ate up every little sentence, promise, and remark that came from his mouth. 

Once the blocks were cleared the area was going to be used for the newest President’s playground of attractions. That meant jobs for good folks like himself and his friends. The only problem was getting the occupants out of the way and that was the easiest step of all. The informants were a necessity, but payment was eating into his savings. 

As the last embers of the cigarette dissipated T gave the place a last glance and left. Life was finally working out.

-This is a work of fiction, but it is based on real concerns that people have. Families are being torn apart through an archaic immigration system which is costly, takes years to get through, and for some can be a one shot opportunity. Do not discount fellow Americans concerns, because it doesn’t affect you. For life can change in an instant and what’s not relevant today will be of utmost importance tomorrow.