What Is War

The date is 18th April 1992. A cowboy movie is playing on TV, we’re drinking tea, my mom and my grandma are sitting on the couch in their nightgowns. Suddenly, bright yellow lines appear behind the windows. I’m six and my first naïve thought is of New Year’s fireworks. I look towards my mom just as the realization of what’s going on dawns on her face. It’s bullets. What follows still remains a blur. An explosion of grenades, crawling under the table, a night on the cold windowless hall of my grandma’s flat.

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