I was born in the queue, fed daily by food and services personnel who returned to the queue at the end of their shifts. I met my future wife three places behind me. A pastor stepped from the queue to marry us. We had no children.
The great day came. I reached the head of the queue. I leaned heavily on a walking stick.
“Your papers are not in order. Report to the placement office for correction, then return to the back of the queue.”
For the first time, I noticed the queue began between the gates for arrivals and departures.
So true and happens all the time. Universal problem.
Intriguing, Kafkaesque. I enjoyed it.