June 14, 2017 - Daily life in the Syrian town of Duma amidst the rubble and destruction. The town was the site of several demonstrations at the beginning of the Syrian uprising, and then turned into a battleground between the Syrian government and the opposition. Anas Alkharbotli/Zuma Press/Press Association Images. All rights reserved.It’s eleven o’clock at night outside the borders of war, or two in the morning according to war winter time: time here doesn’t bow to natural circumstances, or actually it does and to nothing else.
The sun sets at four during the winter, with no other source of light for this bleak spot of the world in the 21st century. We sit all together in one room, and we shut the door even though three out of four of us suffer from claustrophobia.
It’s funny to assume that the war would appease such terrors of yours. Your share in your ancestors’ remains and their civilisation isn’t enough to warm open spaces; so, we must sit together in this room. This share of warmth is very cold, mixed with deep-set guilt: you are warm while the children of your country die from the cold. We are evil beings, void of any conscience.
