knife, scarred with blood, glinting in the sun, pressed firmly under the chin. The orange clothes, unequivocal, unambiguous, unmistakable, against the lifeless desert surroundings. A forced message, first personal for the family of the victim, then an attack on the victim’s country. The gallant, chivalrous face, thankful, that this torture will finally end. The knife cuts viciously, ferocious, the victims face contorting uncontrollably in a frenzy. A gleaming look of victory on the face of the radical…
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