Stories and News No. 860 There was an explosion. A loud bang , you should have listened. You might still feel the echo and I have no idea how much longer the waves caused by yet another emptiness will travel. But they are not like those created by little stones thrown into the water, or worse, by a tsunami that hits the headlines only when a rich towel was found on the beach. These vibrations are desperately looking for a home. Memory, words. At best, normal empathy. That's why you still feel it, if you pay attention with that kind of underestimated ear protruding from heart. Because home, memory, words, normal empathy, they never found them. There was an explosion, I told you. And, what interests you most, there are also the dead. The injured. And the missing ones. All the usual story, or the book that comes out when the writer is called death and the publishers, well... the publishers are us. Even if we used to think of being just impotent readers. I also have ph...
by Alessandro Ghebreigziabiher