Two Hundred and Seventy Four

I had another dream last night.  In it, I seemed to be in a government building, being shuffled from room to room because I lack identity papers.

I thought at first it was a hospital, because my clothes (and papers) had been taken away and I was wearing some kind of robe.  But instead of white gowns and surgical masks, everyone there wore black, and masks like dominos that covered the upper half of their faces instead of the lower. 

One of them looked like the woman who strip searched me the last time I crossed the border.

I woke depressed and ready to reconsider suicide.