What next?

Dirty dishes are in my sink, waiting.  My clothes sit in my suitcase, in the same hastily-packed mess that they have been in since Tuesday morning.  A bag of trash sits by my door, and scraps of receipts, papers, credit cards, crayons, and passports are strewn across the desk that is mine for the next... two months?  four?  Who knows?

And I can't tear myself away from my computer, checking every few minutes to see what the BBC has updated on their website.

I watched Mubarak's speech this afternoon, after reading predictions that he would be stepping down.  As the children played with their toys, I saw the crowd's angry reaction to Mubarak's reaffirmation that he wasn't leaving.  Sophia asked me to turn the TV off, and I tried to explain to her that this was about Egypt, where we live.  Or lived.  She shrugged her shoulders, and went back to Just So Stories.


I turn to the computer, and see Egypt, and worry about what will happen next.  I look out my window, and see Oakwood's sparkling blue pool.  I read the news, and wonder if I'll ever go back.  I get in my car, and drive to Target, just like any other resident of Falls Church, carrying my secret of Egypt inside, somewhere that only I can see and feel.

The girls view this move as just one more in a long line of moves, and Edwin has become my personal leech.  Only once has anyone asked to go back to Cairo, and only when Sophia was particularly upset about eating her lunch.  I have started to return to the rhythm of being an American in America again, but for how long?

My heart goes out to those who are in Cairo tonight.  Be safe.