The building was a reminder of a different time, when the world’s friendliest border was just that: a line of monuments and cuts through the woods that no one paid any mind.
The customs officer was waiting for me when I returned to the station. The bright lights, yellow pilings, and security cameras at the crossing were a stark contrast to the old post-and-beam structure next to it. The building was a reminder of a different time, when the world’s friendliest border was just that: a line of monuments and cuts through the woods that no one paid any mind.
