Because the magnitude of war is too much
for an 11-year-old brain to absorb, because
the possibility of her parents dying is beyond reckoning,
she calls from the city where she has been sent
to safety, asking, How is Nafanya? Her guinea pig
has stayed with her parents near where the bombs
fall and fall and fall. How is Nafanya? she asks,
calling again and again. And as long as her mother
answers, she can continue to tell herself that a small
ball of fluff is the only thing that worries her.
Editor’s Note: The magnitude of war is too much for all of us.
Photograph by Christine Klocek-Lim
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