The narrative of terror is
the narrative
of justifications,
of explanations,
of accusations.
It is the narrative of
the names and faces
of the innocent.
It is the narrative
of the helpless and the poor,
the millions of refugees,
the bodies found and picked up
from the streets of Baghdad,
buried in mass graves,
unidentified, unclaimed.
We are the lucky ones,
who witness the horror from afar,
our TV screens,
our newspapers,
our computer monitors.
We can watch in shock and awe,
as it all unfolds,
less and less frequently now,
safe from the missiles,
safe from the car bombs,
the only danger
those flashing images
hurting our eyes.
That’s why those reports come with a warning.
