Dark, dismal days, as the sun tries breaking through a sulphuric haze overlaying our little town. Four years now, right in the middle of the battle lines drawn between two religious factions. Both claimed they were fighting for God, but all they were doing was raising hell for us.
I am Mareek, son of the once mayor of Abbul, a quiet little town where mostly local farmers sold their goods. Now a war torn assembly of remnants, looking more like piles of rubbish, Continue reading