Angel of death, When you collect the souls of those killed in an air strike, do you mind leaving a sign for us, so we know who is who? Because last time my old kindergarten teacher couldn’t recognize her daughter’s face, which ear or arm or bloody finger on the dusty streets was hers. And a father wouldn’t recognize which was his child if it wasn’t for the size of shoes (28 European size still on the sole) that he bought her for the new school year.
