ISRAEL GAZA WAR: FROM THE WHISPERS TO THE SCREAMS
Southern Israel, in the wake of October 7.
Soldiers camp a few kilometers from the Gaza border. They return from combat, drained — voices low on the phone, waiting in line at a makeshift food truck, silence wrapped in fatigue.
In Sderot, before the remains of a police station torn to the ground, a man opens his sacred book. He begins a prayer for the lost, standing alone in the dust.
Along the kibbutz borderlands, the massacre left its shape. The aftermath of the “Al-Aqsa Flood” still breathes through shattered homes. A container holds the bodies. And in the cemeteries, the soil is fresh — again and again.
ISRAEL GAZA WAR: FROM THE WHISPERS TO THE SCREAMS
Southern Israel, in the wake of October 7.
Soldiers camp a few kilometers from the Gaza border. They return from combat, drained — voices low on the phone, waiting in line at a makeshift food truck, silence wrapped in fatigue.
In Sderot, before the remains of a police station torn to the ground, a man opens his sacred book. He begins a prayer for the lost, standing alone in the dust.
Along the kibbutz borderlands, the massacre left its shape. The aftermath of the “Al-Aqsa Flood” still breathes through shattered homes. A container holds the bodies. And in the cemeteries, the soil is fresh — again and again.
