On war and love, 2006
July 16
Sunday 16 - I’ve had my youngest son evacuated by boat a few hours before the bombing of the port. It’s a mere 400 metres away from home. I jumped at the noise of the planes ripping through the sound barrier, two loud bangs, before they dropped their bombs. From the living room, I could see the smoke rise from the port, the same that I see on TV. I’ve lost my appetite, the food in the fridge is turning bad. I live on nuts, coffee and cigarettes, and vodka at night to help me sleep. (26,5x40)