No, I don’t fast, but the story I found myself telling when we had some friends over for tea was as much of a tragedy as could be appropriate for this day of mourning. It was the story of my parents’ lives and their multiple escapes and survival, and the enumeration of all the relatives who didn’t make it through. I can’t imagine a more suitable introduction to a day of mourning.

I don’t know what made me tell it – I’ve told it in parts in some poems, and to Ezi here and there, but when my friend kept exclaiming that this should be a movie, I kept going. Maybe after I finish some of my more pressing projects…..