A friend from northern Israel told me a few days ago, except that the air siren sounded a couple of times in the first days of the war, life had mostly been okay, and the co-workers who had been drafted were returning to work.
Another friend in Gaza, with whom I was able to communicate intermittently, told me in the early days of the fighting he was used to the air raids. Later on when the bombing became more and more intense, anxiety and fear began to show between the lines. Lately I was able to confirm his safety, but he lost his niece, and a relative’s house was destroyed.
In the early-August when the situation was tense, a Palestinian attacked pedestrians with a tractor in Jerusalem. An Israeli was killed. Yet another friend happened to be nearby, fortunately he was safe but still a tragedy nonetheless. Harming innocent civilians is inexcusable, but while living under daily injustices may still be bearable, how could one suffer seeing his fellow people and children being bombed to pieces?