The Midnight Crossing
"At the Allenby Bridge crossing between Jordan and Palestine, Yara and Amir meet during a midnight delay—and discover that borders are meaningless when hearts connect."
The Midnight Crossing
The crossing closed at midnight—some bureaucratic necessity—leaving two hundred people stranded in limbo between Jordan and Palestine.
"They say it'll be six hours."
Yara looked at the man beside her—tired, handsome, offering a thermos.
"Coffee?"
"At midnight?"
"It's going to be a long night. I'm Amir."
They talked to pass the hours—about families, about homecomings, about the particular purgatory of being between places.
"Where are you going?" Yara asked.
"Ramallah. My mother's birthday."
"And where are you really from?"
"Everywhere. Nowhere." He smiled sadly. "My family is scattered across six countries. Home is wherever they let me in."
"That's lonely."
"Less so at the moment."
As hours passed, others slept. But Yara and Amir stayed awake, their conversation becoming confession.
"I've never told anyone this," she admitted, sharing her fears.
"Crossings do that. No one knows you. Nothing counts."
"Everything counts." She met his eyes. "This counts."
"Does it?"
"You tell me."
They kissed in the darkness of the waiting area, strangers becoming something else.
"This is crazy," Yara breathed.
"Borders make people crazy." Amir pulled her closer. "But this feels sane."
They found privacy in the shadows—desperate, hungry, alive. He made love to her against a wall while officials slept and the border stayed closed.
"Ya Allah," he groaned. "Yara—"
"Don't stop. Please—"
They came together silently, muffled cries lost in no-man's land.
"Come with me to Ramallah," Amir said as dawn broke.
"I have plans in Jerusalem—"
"Change them. Just for the weekend. I want to know you. Really know you."
"We just met."
"We've been meeting for six hours. That's longer than most first dates."
She laughed despite herself. "Na'am. But I'm meeting your mother. Fair warning."
"She'll love you." He kissed her. "So will I."
The border opened. They crossed together, neither looking back, both looking forward to whatever came next.
Some crossings, Yara realized, weren't about places at all.
They were about finding people who made everywhere feel like home.