There is something unnerving about the predictability of the grinding of the gears. And yet despite the inexorably predictability of the process, the violence inflicted comes off as arbitrary, sometimes almost capricious. It must drive people insane.
A Tale of Two Cities.
Fighting quiets down one place.
Meanwhile, a few hours drive to the west (conditions permitting, of course).
And so life goes on, albeit in different fashion from place to place.
a tale of two towns.
A place.
The place they’re supposed to be.
Another place nearby.
So it goes.
Rojava to Rock 