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Papers, Please Review: Mundane tyranny
by forwardslash

    "Papers, please." I've asked so many times I hear it in my sleep. Another haggard, hopeful face hangs in front of my window, my tenth of the day. She slides her passport, her access permit, her polio vaccination through the window and then tedium begins.

    I've done what comes next so many times, it's practically instinctual at this point. I check her height, her weight, her gender, cross-referencing each field against all the documents. Finally I uncover what I'm looking for: A small discrepancy in the spelling of her name. She assures me it's a typo, begs me to let her through the border checkpoint. She's wasting her breath.

    I consider sending her away, but the documents could be falsified. That's a crime, and I've got a partner who gives me a kickback for every would-be immigrant that I detain. I could send her away, but I've got a family to feed.