The Last Normal Day

Hold your tears. You're going to need them.

I wrote this book from inside Gaza — not after the catastrophe, not from a safe place, but while it was still happening.

On the last ordinary day of my life, I made tea and planned a week that never came. Then the world I knew ended, and I began to write, because writing was the only thing left that no one could take from me.

This is not a report. No statistics. No analysis. No one explaining Gaza to you from a safe distance. This is one life, from the inside: the displacement, the hunger, the people I lost, and the small mercies no camera was ever there to catch.

If you've followed my story online, you've seen the minute. This is the hour.

I wrote it without decoration, because what happened doesn't need any.