Good Friday Dream

I’m reading a Doonesbury comic about forgotten papers in government files. I’m reading the panels right to left– pictures of empty rooms, confidential documents, weapons in partial images as if seen through a broken window. The last picture, on the upper left, is not a cartoon. It’s a photograph. The body of a man face down, arms stretched over his head, lying on the floor of a destroyed house. Iraq, ten years ago this March. I begin to weep.

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