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I was born in Tunisia, in Tunis, a few steps from that city’s large ghetto. My father, a harness maker, was somewhat pious, naturally somewhat so, as were all men of his trade and his station in life…
[By “war”] I mean concrete war—rather than a war of words or an incomplete war of demonstrations. I am not in denial regarding the existence of these words or those demonstrations, and neither do I…
I sit by the desk. Four hours of sleep is enough. The rain beats strongly on the neighboring garage’s tin rooftop. The roar of a bus rises from afar. Early rising workers head for the morning shift…