‘There is no surah of The Returnee‘,he writes. ‘Bombs blew out the bathroom door,’she writes, ‘but nobody was in the bathroom,hamdulillah. We are waiting for more news.’He writes, ‘Bombs blew out the front doorsand windows of all the buildings on the street.‘Thank God, we had a little more newsfrom my aunt and uncle. They’re well, if you call it “well”.No windows in all the buildings on the street.‘My little cousin cries, and hides her tearsfrom my aunt and uncle. They’re well, if you call it “well”.’She stares as if her gaze would keep them safe.’‘My little cousin cries, and doesn’t sleep.She wants to go to school, and see her friends,as if her gaze somehow would keep them safe –play hide-and-seek, read out loud together, recite.’He wants to go to school and see his friends,recognise their faces, say their names,play football, read out loud together, recitea surah, a poem – even make one up.Recognise their faces, say their names…Sometimes it eases tension to recitea surah, a poem, even make one upif the text you need doesn’t exist.Sometimes it eases tension to recitewhat you wrote down last night, by candlelight.If the text you need doesn’t existyou make it up. Resistance, old words, worth repeating,you wrote last night under fluorescent light.Is it inevitable that sons and daughtersof the Book (which book, they all exist?)and of exile send others into exile?Inevitably, I’m a granddaughter of refugees,welcome, then, as inexpensive labour,exiles who sent no one into exile,shopkeeper, factory girl, bookkeeper,welcomed, then, as inexpensive labour.Some of their sons and daughters went to college,children of factory workers and shopkeepers.Murder continued, altogether elsewhere.Some of these sons and daughters would have studiedmedicine, languages, literature.They were murdered, in Gaza, elsewhere,fire from the sky, breath snuffed out under rubble.Language as medicine? Literatureas ceasefire? Maybe when/if it’s over,fire from the sky snuffed out, some of the rubblelifted, and a survivor emerges.During a pause in the bombing, pause nearly over,some women shoulder a slab of fallen stone,lift it, and a survivor emerges.Whose Issa¹ is he, what can he redeem?‘Some women shouldered a slab of fallen stone,’he wrote, ‘but no one alive was underneath.’No Issa rising to proclaim good news.There is no surah of The Returnee.^2   1. ‘Issa’ is ‘Jesus’ in Arabic. As in Spanish, it is a common name, for Muslims and Christians alike.^2. The idea of a — non-existent — Quranic surah entitled The Returnee came from an essay by the Palestinian American poet Fady Joudah.