As we left the house of the grieving father and poured out in to the narrow back alleyways of the old city, Sari tugged politely on my hand reminding me of what I had promised him,
I’d totally forgotten, taken away with all the darkness and misery that swarmed the room I was just in. The father had lost both his children and wife a few days ago. It destroyed me seeing him break down whilst screaming: “I couldn’t even say goodbye, I didn’t even see their faces” his family were shredded to pieces by a missile attack leaving nothing fair in offering him any real closure.
But we were now outside and as I heard the man still weeping from behind the front door to my left, Sari, now the man’s only child was starting to get impatient.
So here we go: “Sari, No your left hand underneath, a few steps back, take a deep breath and when you like what you see, shoot”
This was the picture little Sari took of me.
By Rami Jarrah