Introduction

On august fifteenth, kabu fell. That night, taliban fighters were inside the presidential palace. People scrambled to get out. Some fled overland to eat on turkey or pakistan. Others hoped to make it to the airport, but ended up waiting for days in scorching heat. This is poetry of the shelf. I'm helena te rot to day, leving and loving afghanistan. It's good. They just had an explosion by the airport, and we had friends there, but luckily they got out. O they are waiting right there. And they turned back because they finally gave up their like, never mind. Re they waited forty eight hours