How violence is sometimes the correct answer

It was a splendid morning in the Netherlands. The weather was nice. The sun was shining. Around 8 a.m., Eva was stretching her sleepy limbs. She heard people unlocking their bikes, seagulls fighting over garbage, and trains riding off to who-knows-where. A gentle wind squeezing in through the half-open window was caressing her forehead. She … Continue reading How violence is sometimes the correct answer