ZIAD IN GAZA

 The grandmother opens the door without knocking. I was lying on the couch, but got up with a start.

“I am sorry,” she said. “A church was bombed, and you told me you have friends there.”

We immediately checked and knew which church. My friend has been staying there with his family. I call him immediately, the phone rings …

“Are you OK?” I scream.

“No, I am not. They bombed the church.”

“I heard the fucking news! Are your wife and daughter fine?”

“They are. My parents are fine, too. They did not bomb the side we were at. But there are people under the rubble. We are trying to get them out. I gotta go. Tell our friends I am OK.”

In Gaza, no place is safe, not even churches.