An accidental witness
There are only two of us left now. Only one of the two saw and heard what death dealt out to our parents and brothers. It makes a difference if you observe death at work, often slowly, not dramatically, as might be the case in a battle or when some psychopath drives a car through pedestrians. It makes a difference when you are emotionally and genetically connected to those dying or dead. Perhaps my witness account of deaths will strike a chord with readers who empathise with the way the mind replays stored video clips, usually at quite bizarre times, as if you are being forced to recheck your evidence data, to ask yourself, “Was it really so bad? Did it happen that way?” So that is what I am doing now – documenting the replay of those memory clips, at times overly preoccupied with irrelevant details,
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