Mightier
For two days the words have eluded me. Because I am not just Charlie, I am an Afghan teacher, a Syrian shopkeeper, a British aid-lorry driver. I am a Pakistani cook, a Kurdish nurse, a Nigerian schoolgirl. I am thousands of lost names who can no longer speak their words for themselves.
This evening, outside the National Gallery, I saw this simple memorial. I added my pen. The words came back.
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