when Americans think about war, they think about men with guns, and soldiers in uniforms
when I think about war, I think about packing suitcases
I think about food shortages, I think about the economic collapse
I think about my grandmother, the one we had to leave behind
the one whose mother moved her from town to town, until they didn’t see a war anymore
the one who was left an orphan, in the middle of Siberia, with her 13-year-old sister to take care of her
when I think about war, I think about the cold walls of apartment buildings, I think about no heat in the house, I think about hotel rooms
I think about having to learn a new language in order to survive
when I think about war, I think about being a child, and standing on the coast of an ocean
where the wind blows just enough to make one paranoid, just enough to feel like war is right around the corner, right around and behind you, touching you