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DROWNING OUT THE MORTARS |
| She turns the music way up loud and listens to the sounds, the tunes, the words, the notes that disguise the mortar rounds. “Home” for now is plywood, ringed with bags of sand and the familiar songs bring comfort like the clasping of a hand. She cranks the song up higher and listens while the sounds of night and jets and steel guitars drown out the mortar rounds. ©Christina |
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