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This series of essays is not a war memoir; it’s not an academic study. It also isn’t a collection of personal stories. While it includes pieces of those, along with reflection, it is rooted in what we lived, witnessed, or heard...
In Kabul, winter smelled like smoke. A smell I still notice, even far from there...
When danger lasts long enough, it doesn’t stay contained within individual lives...
When danger becomes the environment, it doesn’t remain outside the home...
In Afghanistan, for many people, “before the war” is not a memory...
Not every wound comes with blood...
Some dangers arrive with noise...
When a nervous system has spent too long...
Sometimes the wish is not to die...
COMING SOON