Although Jakub didn’t want this happened, never ever. Once coming and then having to accept.
Jakub decided to leave. As he opened the dilapidated door, it squeaked its familiar sound. The old apartment he lived was crowed but cheap. The grey day made him felt uncomfortable.
“It's going to rain.” he thought.
Cars clamored in the narrow streets. A few birds stood on bare branches. The cold wind rolled up the dust on the street, whipping in his eye. The view blurred, Jakub didn't know what he cried for, even whether he cried or not. Probably because of the drizzling rain falls like tears; probably because of the crowded street; probably because of the depressing letter.
Jakub walked slowly along the bank of the river. This side of Potomac was neglected, littered with abandoned parks. It used to be quiet and peaceful, normally no one been here. He frowned as the roar of fuzzy coming from a distance.
"If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread” a high-pitched male voice rush towards Jakub mixed with others echoes.
The noises were getting louder and louder, more and more excited. That was a public meeting, hundreds of people huddle in the park. They were talking about refugees. Jewish refugees, that include Jakub himself. All people were stimulated and shouted: “USA! USA!