Every god needs his priesthoods, his churches, his taboos, his talismans. We stood amidst them in Ataturk Airport, with its customs agents, gates, and scanners, holding our passports like supplicants awaiting an audience with the divine. My friend and I hugged goodbye. I waited on the long lines for security that he could not pass through. After I crossed to the other side, he texted me to wish me a safe flight.
-Molly Crabapple, VICE: The Paris Attacks, Refugees, and the Brutal Fiction of Borders, 11/19/2015
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