It was a photograph on the Times website that set my heart racing, my adrenalin spiking and gave me that strangely metallic taste of no taste in my mouth. Baghdad, its buildings and palm trees wreathed in smoke, like a Lower Manhattan on the Tigris on the morning of 9/11. Sitting at my kitchen table, I could hear the boom, smell the cordite filling Haifa Street.
I watched the television news with its mobile phone footage capturing the moment that two of the bombs went off. It was later that I had to turn off, when the camera caught a man walking away, uninjured but dazed, shaking his head gently at the cameramen who sought to stop him, as if his still mask might slip and his many griefs explode on to the pavement.… Seguir leyendo »