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Today we dug a baby out of the rubble of a house. She was burned all over. I managed to film as we lifted the stone from her chest. She was quiet and covered in dust. The father stood on a stone and was crying out to god. The mother must have been in there somewhere. We wrapped the baby in a foil blanket. We took her to hospital in the jeep. I uploaded the footage at Kassim’s café. Kassim showed me how to make Turkish coffee on the stove.

 

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At 3 am a shaft of moonlight creeps over the bullet holes on the balcony wall.

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Smoke rises from her cigarette. A jeep rolls down the road below. She steps into the shadow. She checks her hand.

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At 3 am the world appears to her as if from behind glass, its sounds muffled, its meanings absent, her thoughts distant.

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