Sadness and tragedy seem to be around every corner at the moment. Like a dynamic duo of darkness they hide amongst the pages of this month's book club book; in towns and cities in Libya; under desks at work; and even behind the bright yellow tulips on the kitchen table at home. And then, of course, there's the obvious playground of the moment: the second largest city of my homeland.
Hand in hand they swing from tree to tree, laughing in their sick and peculiar way as they go; leaving a trail of misery in their wake.
Every now and then there is a light moment: a good Spanish class, an amusing joke at work, giggles in the kitchen with the Franconia ladies. But then somehow (maybe by a look on BBC news, an email, or a comment) you are reminded of all the calamity.
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