Shattered glass

I found these shards from a shattered glass bottle on 30th Street SE, in Washington DC, just a few steps away from a shrine to a murder vicitim named "Head" ( see: http://dcshrines.blogspot.com ).

This brought forth sharp memories of the aftermath of a suicide bomb attack I documented in Jerusalem six years ago, where eleven souls were murdered in a bus in a quiet blue-collar neighborhood.

Shattered glass. Shattered lives.

And in that space and time, and in this, there emerge artifacts from the violence which have poignancy and beauties of their own.