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“I hear the sound of air raid siren as I’m passing by a café. Outside the door, a girl around 5 years old is rocking a stroller with a smaller child inside. As the siren becomes louder, she begins to cry, sobbing uncontrollably. I barely have time to ask what’s wrong when their mother comes out, holding croissants in her hands:
– Why are you crying? What happened?
– The siren, and you weren’t here!
– But you know that I went in to buy you a croissant. It’s okay, here, take your croissant.
The girl takes it, calms down a little, and then says:
– I’m just scared of dying without you…
“I’m just scared of dying without you,” says a five-year-old child!
May they all be damned for making our children think and cry about such things. Every one of them.”
Text by Lesia Sukhodolska
“I hear the sound of air raid siren as I’m passing by a café. Outside the door, a girl around 5 years old is rocking a stroller with a smaller child inside. As the siren becomes louder, she begins to cry, sobbing uncontrollably. I barely have time to ask what’s wrong when their mother comes out, holding croissants in her hands:
– Why are you crying? What happened?
– The siren, and you weren’t here!
– But you know that I went in to buy you a croissant. It’s okay, here, take your croissant.
The girl takes it, calms down a little, and then says:
– I’m just scared of dying without you…
“I’m just scared of dying without you,” says a five-year-old child!
May they all be damned for making our children think and cry about such things. Every one of them.”
Text by Lesia Sukhodolska
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