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“As I drank, I saw Srebrenica spread out before me from halfway up the hill, coated with a thick winter fog. Snow dusted the hills surrounding us, hugging the town in its icy embrace. Conifer trees dotted the hills, their branches looking muted from the snow covering them. Snow covered all the roofs in the valley, giving everything a white and still appearance. We felt frozen in time, abandoned and forsaken, which was a true reflection of our internal state. “The government should create a new tourism campaign. Srebrenica, the place where time kneels between mountains.” Ramo waved his hands out to the terrain before us. After we got our breath back from laughing, I passed the bottle to him. My cheeks flushed as he placed his lips over the spout where my lips had been. He finished drinking and handed me the bottle. Our fingers touched, sparks flying.”

“Now the combined sounds blend in. The sound of piss trickling into the bucket, or shit dropping down to splatter onto the smelly leftovers from previous visitors. The sound of grenades and bullets wreaking destruction outside. Sometimes it sounds like a rocket-propelled grenade is right over us, that we should expect the roof to cave in on us and crush us to death. But that is another thing we have gotten used to. We don’t flinch anymore when a grenade whistles overhead.” Siege”

“Mama clutched the wall, her face white with terror. 'Stupid girl!' She shook me by my shoulders. 'You can’t run out like that! Snipers will get you.' Like a long thin finger, my hometown of Srebrenica stretched in the valley between steep hills, clustered along the main road leading in and out of town. The green canopy of the birch tree forest looked like green fairy floss dotted with the burgundy terracotta tile roofs of white rendered houses. The nearby hills were a perfect vantage point for snipers. In the time it took them to shoot once, miss, and correct their target, an innocent bystander would have time to take just one step.” Fragments”