Everything has a beginning and an end. It is one of the very first lessons that we are taught as chil- dren, especially when our parents needed an excuse to deprive us of TV time. The beginning of the war goes as far back as 1989, when the nationalist parties started rising and competing for dominance. “There were always three,” my father told me one day. “Two parties against one. It was always the second aligning with the strongest party to fight the third.” After the death of Tito, Slobodan Milošević ascended to Serbian presidency and attempted to consolidate power by centralizing the state, but many of the republics moved against him to loosen his grip. After many disagreements among delegates, four of the six republics sought to gain independence, Slovenia being the first of them. Backed by Germany and the Vatican, Slovenia strategi- cally prepared for Yugoslavia’s ineluctable retaliation. From June 27, 1991, throughout July 7, 1991, Slovenia skirmished with the Yugoslav Peop...

 

 

 

Grandmother visited me in a dream last night Wearing a pink jump suit and a curious smile Driving a pink Cadillac convertible Her sweatband accented her beehive do She drove by in slow soundless motion Her words were inaudible But I heard her She said, “Relax…” A pink jump suit Clouds and a Cadillac Taking it easy Happy to know she likes her new place.

  (From his book: Silence in the Quiet of Peace ) Nights are different during the war. Without the power to light the street lamps everything is darker. People are mere silhouettes sifting about under the moonlight. They move erratically for fear of snipers, whose line of sight is obscured by the darkness—a saving grace for those foraging for food. The buildings come alive with flickering lights from candles and lanterns. You can see the shadows of children playing, adults cooking whatever they could scrounge up during the daylight over a dying flame, and sometimes you can see people reading. These small things brought some normalcy to an otherwise abnormal situation. Occasionally there would be a scream in the distance or nearby. Someone was killed or injured by a sniper, or a shell, and then the lights recede, and the peoples’ silhou- ettes disappear into the absolute darkness that held an unwavering grip on the city. There’s something about staring at a burning flame in the midd...