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Suffocated by a cruel, inescapable siege imposed by the Syrian regime and after five months of incessant and senseless shelling, a group of children living in Aleppo start painting the walls of their city. It is an act of protest as well as resistance: a small act that dares to dream of bringing back life in a place that has been humiliated by bombs and bullets, while international powers were watching without doing anything to save lives. Thus, the colours sowed throughout the devastated city sprout small beacons of hope for the thousands of people trapped in Aleppo, smothered by the ruins and rubbles. So, while the Russian forces cut off supplies of food and medicine, more than 280,000 civilians languishing without a home or a shelter try to find new hope and reasons to go on. What happened in Aleppo will never be forgotten.
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A woman sits alone on a chair at a table in a room on one of the top floors of an asylum. Bright spot lights dot the night, sometimes shining on her window. She sharpens pencils and writes on a page in a copy book. The pencil point often breaks under her fingers’ force. She places broken points outside the window on the sill. A satanic figure is somewhere nearby, animated but of straw or clay, not flesh. She finishes her writing, tears the paper from the pad, folds it, places it in an envelope, and slips it through a slot. Is she writing to her husband? “Sweetheart, come.” Written by