(Image: President Zelensky Telegram feed)
My little daughter and I wander by the ruins of our house, looking for the remnants of our lives. A lucky toy under the bed survived the deadly blast, a cupboard in the kitchen claws into the wall, burnt but proud.
“Mom, why is the night dark?” she starts her favourite game.
“Because the day closes its eyes to sleep,” I reply patiently.
“Why do we sleep?”
“To rest before a new day.” I was getting good at this.
“Why do Russians do this to us?” she then asks, fingering her dusty toy. And I can’t find words to answer.
“Mom, why is the night dark?” she starts her favourite game.
“Because the day closes its eyes to sleep,” I reply patiently.
“Why do we sleep?”
“To rest before a new day.” I was getting good at this.
“Why do Russians do this to us?” she then asks, fingering her dusty toy. And I can’t find words to answer.
