Excerpt:

"A question lingers in my mind. Are we dancing around the truth, trying to pretend it's not there? Just less than 100km northwards, rounds and rounds of rockets hit the Palestinian camps. Children have been forced from their homes in the face of imminent death...The questions linger, and I cut through my cinnamon roll, right down the middle, instead of eating the concentric circles like usual. I'm tired of routine. The slight chaos of my eating habit reflects the undertones of the city this morning.

The people move on with life. They are proud of their ability to do so, thinking it a sign of strength and immunity. In reality, it is a sign of denial, of ignoring the truth because facing it is too damn hard.

The locals speak of the summer as if a war has been scheduled. 'Let's go to the beach this week - before the war starts.' They end such statements with a grossly shallow laugh, as if they've just heard a good joke."