When they found my cousin's body, he was still clutching the bag he had taken to collect aid.
When his family arrived at the hospital to receive his body, they were handed the bag he didn't let go, even in death. Inside were a few food items he had gathered for his children.
They were also handed his worn-out shoes, torn from the long distances he walked and ran, searching for food.
The food made it home.
But Alaa didn’t.
The Pale Notebook 