“At the edge of the field Silva and Stefan witnessed heartrending images in greyscale as thousands of desperate refugees streamed down the road in leaden shades of melancholy. This somber line of tired and dirty humans moved so close together that they jostled each other with each step; their random movements reminded Silva of corks bobbing in a slow moving stream. They watched them pass from the side of the road, but eventually fell-in, trudging along with the suffering others, feeling safer in numbers, hoping for a destination worth finding.” WarFictionHistoryDramaDeceptionInsecurityAnguishFast PacedSoldiers Book:Magenta Source: Magenta
“The problem with bearing fanatical witness to this kind of human depravity is that ambiguity and contradiction easily overwhelm the nuance required for understanding. There seems to me that no logic applies to our time of terror, as if it were a dream. There was no lapse of incoherence; none of it was incomprehensible; our shared pain was not sensible then and unexplainable afterwards. It was actually all too real all the time, and we were simply trying to navigate an uncertain passage through it in search of safety.” WarFictionHistoryDramaSurvivalDeceptionInsecurityFightAnguishFast Paced Book:Magenta Source: Magenta
“But the floor retained an unparalleled measure of excellence with a decorative array of ceramic tiles precisely laid by an anonymous Muslim artisan with limitless patience, pride, or skill. He left behind an ornate work of art in a short, squat, non-descript building near the most dangerous piece of real estate on the planet. Silva often wondered how an architect so careless came to work with a craftsman so precise. Looking at that floor, she often thought that if everyone applied just a fraction of his dedication to their own work, it might cancel out the hatred driving the destruction.” WarDarkFictionHistoryDramaSurvivalDeceptionInsecurityFightFast Paced Book:Magenta Source: Magenta
“I want you to write like Alice Munro. Stir the world. Make people see the horror; show them their suffering relatives; show them that they’re not safe. Let them know that they can’t even begin to imagine what’s happening here. By making my reality more compelling than reality television is the only way you’ll get their attention. Psychotic and cynical. Who can tell the difference anymore between a severed head and a special effect? Can you? I doubt it, and I know you’ve been in the middle of it all and seen the damage first-hand.” DarkHistoryViolenceSacrificeSadDevastationDescriptiveEye OpenerHarrowingFrontline Journalist Book:Magenta Source: Magenta
“What was once a home she had taken apart one piece at a time, one day...She sold her belongings for money to buy food. First the luxuries: a small statue, a picture. Then the items with more utility: a lamp, a kettle. Clothes left the closet at a rate of a garment a day…she burned everything in the basement first; then everything in the attic. It lasted weeks, not months. Though tempted, she left the roof alone. She stripped the second floor, and the stairs. She extracted every possible calorie from the kitchen. she wasn’t working alone, because neighbourhood pirates simultaneously stole anything of value outside: door and window frames, fencing, stucco. They pillaged her yard. Breaking in was a boundary her neigbours had not yet crossed. But the animals had. Rats and mice and other vermin found the cracks without much effort. Like her, they sought warmth and scraps of food. With great reluctance, she roasted the ones she could catch. She spent her nights fighting off the ones that escaped.” LossHistoryViolenceSacrificeHatredDescriptiveSenseless ViolenceEye OpenerFrontline Journalist Book:Magenta Source: Magenta
“She polished her words like smooth river rocks lying perfectly organized in brilliant rainbow shades under crystal clear, slow moving water.” LossHistorySacrificeHatredVictimsDescriptivePerspectivesSenseless ViolenceEye OpenerFrontline Journalist Book:Magenta Source: Magenta