Bottle-Capped Reflection

A low silvery cloud scudded accross the sky obscuring a slice of moon. Florescent lights penetrated the glass, casting unclaimed shadows to the floor at our feet. A hissing sound, distant at first but growing in volume, was heard throught the bus as the breaks were applied and we came to a sudden halt in front of the barbed wire. The door swung on rusty hinges as a tall sulking figure boarded, barking orders in Spanish at our driver. Fear set in as we were waved into the parking lot and ordered into single lines. From the start we were told that there may be trouble - we had been instructed that in the unlikely