We traverse mute corridors, devoid of windows, ascend escalators void of steps, inhabit constricting airports and hazy train stations. We are human luggage. When did the euphoria of exploration transmute into the dread of flight? When did the craving for new experiences dissolve into panic and despondency? In our grasp, a woman-bag; upon our shoulders, a girl-backpack. Our endeavor bears the moniker 'refugees,' a narrative of those propelled by rockets and bombs, informants and the specter of incarceration, in search of a fresh homeland and an altered destiny.