Today marks a week since the war started.
They are talking to me from a dark room again because the air raids are continuing. Hence the lamp on Dad’s head. I hear bombing in the background. Then a different sound. Dad tries to explain to me what weapon makes what sound. They tell me about their day, food reserves, neighbors, and friends who keep helping one way or another. I tell them about all the messages that I get from people around the globe. About flowers on my table and a sudden rain we had this morning. Mom says that she can agree to live like this - as long as it is not worse, as long as the building is still intact and we have a connection.