The child hold tight on to mother as smoke scatters in the now quiet and a while ago bombed plain. A bit ahead sister stands and looks ahead. Tears hidden neck tilted she stares on. The War Ends. It's always LATE but the war, all wars end. Is it now? Is it for real? Does it still work for you? What about all we lost? What about them? Can there be a winner? Does it matter if the political theorisRead more...