Uncertainty nests in hearts that are orphaned by reasons that could explain the horror that is happening in the East of the continent. There have been many social demonstrations against the invasion of Ukraine. During these last weeks, many television networks have shied away from Russophobic attitudes to put on the air classics of European cinema such as Doctor Zhivago, the popular story of the poet who fled the war with his family.įor the past few weeks, a general sense of awe has swept across Europe. On the other side of the continent, in the calm, it is not difficult to also visualize hundreds of people unable to reconcile their reading during any night at the end of winter. This is how we imagine a multitude of people as prisoners of this war: a deadly trap. Even for an act as intimate as reading a book of poems, the war takes its unfair toll by denying him a relief valve. The brief moment he had found to distract himself is gone. Downstairs, in the street, it is pitch black and the government has decreed a curfew. He has heard the advance of the troops and is afraid that the dim light that filters through the curtains will arouse some suspicion. In some corner of a random neighborhood in the city of Mariupol, in Ukraine, a man blows out a candle and leaves his room in darkness.
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