It’s hot, and you’re walking. Shuffling, actually. You’ve spanned a seemingly endless chalk-dry plane, and you’re thirsty, run-down, exhausted. You think about your flaking, parched lips and aching muscles, and about how your arduous journey will be worth it if you ever reach your destination. An immigrant, you’re searching for a new place to live, because the place you call home has become barely livable. You’re thinking about the hot dirt sweat-caked on your skin…