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At the border

At the border:
“Do you love your country?”
“No. I am an emotionless murder robot.”
“Ah… Let me check with my superior. Wait here.”

“Do you love your country?”
“Yes.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, it’s true.”
“What’s its favourite colour?”
“It’s ‘color’.”
“Welcome!”

“Do you love your country?”
“No.”
“Do you love your flag?”
“No.”
“You got to love something! Do you, I dunno, love your eyes?”
“Sure!”
“OK.”

“Do you love your country?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I do not know how to love. Can you show me?”
“I- Yes. I can. Let me.”
“Oh…”
“Ah…”
“Uh…”

“Do you love your country?”
“Do you love your country?”
“What?”
“You don’t, do you?”
“I do! I do, but…”
“But you’re ashamed of it?”
*sob*

“Do you love your country?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, there’s the way we treat the poor.”
“Granted.”
“And corruption. And-“
“Fine! I don’t!”

“Do you love your country?”
“I…”
“You do, don’t you?”
“… maybe.”
“Have you told it?”
“It doesn’t even like me.”
“We’ll change that!”

“Do you love your country?”
“Must I?”
“As of today.”
“Then no.”
“As of tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Next year?”
“No.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Love it.”


Posted as a series of tweets after hearing how Americans coming into USA were asked if they love their country by Customs and Border Protection officers. Not a serial tweet story, more like multiple variations on a theme.

Published inShort story