Lost on the moon

The foxes upon my return two nights ago impressed me. So much that, indeed, I dreamed of a fox cub, lying in the snow, almost frozen to death. I pick it up and tuck it under my jumper. I cannot feel any warmth, not my own, not from the other little life that I just saved.

Is there something beyond being human that could explain our mistakes?

The news talk about famine in Yemen. They repeat it over and over: “famine is ripe”, “famine across the country”, “children are mainly affected by this famine”, and the camera zooms in on empty baby bellies. Bloated and discoloured.
In fact, you hardly see anything other than bellies. Different ages, differently rounded.

Words and images become mismatched. One cannot follow both at the same time anymore.

Trust the words or what you see?
Sure we all can relate to hunger but not to cholera.

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