A guy was attacked the other day for telling another man that the firefighters could’ve done better if they hadn’t been so impulsive.
A girl asks her mom why the family vacation couldn’t be to Egypt or Algeria. The girl’s father wonders, too, and recalls how he fell in love with Camus’ Algiers.
Maybe we can.
But what about Baghdad, Tehran or Damascus? The cradle of civilization.
Should we go to Sudan or Zimbabwe?
Black hawk down, black hawk down, black hawk down below.
The State Department forbids anyone under “U.S. jurisdiction” from visiting Cuba. The state restricts the movement of its citizens
The guy said something about respect before he slammed his fist into the other man’s head. Their families’ tears haven’t dried.
Not everyone in the world likes America, sweetheart. Not everyone thinks it’s as great a country as we do, the mother says.
The father thinks about that one, the bright skies of The Stranger
warm in his mind. The naps in the afternoon.
They don’t like America, and they don’t like Americans, the father concludes.
Is it because of something I did?
Or was it someone else.
How can he explain to his daughter something he doesn’t understand?