Under Fire, part 39

Quit following me! I'm in the shower when my cell phone starts to ring. It stops and starts again immediately, followed closely by the home phone. The urgency of the repeated rings makes it clear that this is Not Good. But whatever horrible news I must face, I would rather do so without shampoo in my eyes, so I grit my teeth and try to ignore the incessant ringing until I can finish my shower. It is, indeed, my Karmiel friend, warning me the home command expects major activity around 11:00. I hurriedly throw on clothes, grab phones and water bottles, stuff Nadine into the closet in the meimad, roll shut the metal blast screen, and close the door. Not a moment too soon, as the sirens go off at 10:52.

We sit out more sirens before being able to head down to Tel Aviv for a meeting. Larry, our company's fearless leader, is driving, and his tendency to pass uphill on blind curves is scarier than the distant booms of ketushot. But by 16:00, I am walking around in the delightfully normal atmosphere of Tel Aviv, contemplating a decadent chocolate dessert at the Cake Art bakery and cafe. All is well. I have temporarily escaped the threat of Nasrallah!

Or so I think.

At 19:00, IAF intercepts a Hezbullah drone on route to Tel Aviv. Our guys shoot it down off the coast, where the debris falls harmlessly into the sea. For several hours, the sound of military jets over the center of the country reminds me that there is no place to escape the danger, and that the normalcy of Tel Aviv is only an illusion.

I think I need more chocolate...