This HAUNTS me. The picture at top is of an elderly shoemaker and his 12 yo apprentice.
A happy smiling brown eyes snapping kid with his whole life ahead of him.
The picture below is of the same place...AFTER the suicide bombing
that killed both of them. I find I can't talk about this scene
both before and after, without...feeling almost overwhelming sadness.
IT TRULY HAUNTS.
I mean. HOW MUCH more death, sadness?
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Mustafa wrote me:
"I missed my flight home. Never done that before. Good thing. If I had been on that earlier flight, I very well would have walked right into that place where the bomb went off."
I read this two days afterward. I had known he was going but came down sick the night before and wasn't online for two days. I had no idea what had happened, but even as sick as I was I kept feeling uneasy on top of feeling queasy. LOL.
When I did get back online, the accounts of the bombing were the first thing I read and I instantly freaked. Zaranj.
"My God," I thought.
"That's where Mustafa is."
I frantically emailed him and he emailed me right back that he was ok. But...was he? Physically, yes...but emotionally?
I was sick with a bacterial virus, but now I was freaked out as well for I KNEW something was very wrong and Mustafa wasn't telling me what it was. Then he did.
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> TO CHAPTER 18
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