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Photo by Carey Davis

It was a year of dripping chaos. A flash. A burst. A dizzying whirl wrapped up in the stars. A dream caught by the wind and tugged like a balloon gasping for that bizarre taste called freedom.

It was a year humming with the intoxicating radiance of youth. Where eternity is a guarantee and oblivion that grotesque thing suffocating the Rest. A weed choking out the ordinaries.

It was a day when the sun leaked in and out across the grey, dry street. Its rays like matches striking asphalt. Lit up. Ignite. A hush. A whimper. Its golden hand crept…

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Al-Aqsa Mosque hovering over the Western Wall. An Israeli flag billowing below. (Photo by Carey Davis)

“And we will see Palestinians on our way to Jerusalem,” he digressed, flicking his hand toward a gold-domed mosque. “The city we are going to, they want it back. But no one wants them.”

A small, steady quiet ensued whilst a tempest of thoughts raged in my mind.

“What do you think of the problem between Israel and Palestine? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“There will never be peace.”

The words paralyzed the air with sudden gravity.


“They do not want, we do not want. They want to destroy us.”

Summed up in ten minutes, the entire history…

C. M. Davis

Intoxicated by curiosity. Student, traveler, photographer, writer, wandering wonderer.

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