A flash of wings. That’s what I remember.
We had already been quarantined for weeks. My son, Sebastian, appeared stunned, a little boy unaccustomed to being secluded from the world for so long. A month had passed since Jerusalem was locked down; and we were waiting in our apartment, set on a campus among olive groves on the edge of the city, on a hill just before the checkpoint into Bethlehem. For days we had inexplicably stopped stepping outside, as though even the trees, even the earth could harm us.
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