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  • Christopher G. Moore

Bangkok on New Years Eve

I was home when the bombs exploded about 6.30 p.m. It didn’t take long for the news to spread. I had several SMS messages and phone calls from friends. “Had I heard about the bombings?” One of the blasts in which one man died happened about 500 meters from where I live. I heard nothing that evening. From the 11th floor, I looked out on the city, quiet, silent, and dark. The promise of the New Year is not supposed to bring in fear and uncertainty. Many people recoiled from the usual celebration and the city disappeared into a cocoon of fear. Lives were lost, people injured, and the phantoms responsible for this dark angel of death faded into the night with blood on their hands where they remain at large. Linked to our imagination only as theories. So far there are no faces to these murderers. We live with an abstraction of evil waiting for the authorities to reveal the faces that visited us with death.

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