The Great exodus, a small group, a thin stream, becomes a river of human beings, seeking dignity in the world, they hear about the land of dreams, then the smurf raises his head, go back go back, a small Honduran child, a good grade student does the math; how many are we, seven thousand, the number of a small town, less than 150 per state if you were to move us around, why would the president use refugees as political pawns, why would a President drop a nuclear device and kill 100,000 in a few minutes, and leave many thousands more suffering all their lives!. Donald feels the heat, they are not turning back, his medical check up is due the same day, later in the day Donald is with the doctor, blood pressure fine, no problems with circulation either, There is nothing wrong with you Mr President!…
Donald shakes his head, scratches his head, it’s called hair. Then why am I heating up then he asks.
Well, the doctor says, as you get older, I could be wrong, Donald is loosing patience, say it Doc, I have a country to ruin, sorry run, I meant run.
When you were a small boy you always wanted to go on a caravan holiday, and you are having a flash back to those days, when your father said you had to work all the time, otherwise you’d get nowhere….
One way of explaining it…..