I Can’t Look Away and I Don’t Want To

On Gaza

The street was packed — cars and pedestrians stopped, all staring, talking, and crying. This was Flatbush Avenue in the spring. The sun was setting and the Ave was booming with the entire Little Carribean community making their way home, shopping for the last-minute items for dinner, or boarding the bus going to or coming from work. I don’t even know why I was there, but I was — eyes…