Messenger in the Fire

"The Messenger" When Chen Mo came to Kharkov, he thought he was just a recorder. He took his father's Leica M6 and walked between ruins and clinics, taking selfies amid sirens, babies born in basements, and the inexplicable blankness in the eyes of soldiers. He met Anna, a field doctor who asked about wounds regardless of nationality, Ivan, a soldier who was tossed about by revenge and nightmares, and ordinary people who drank coffee, fed cats, and quarreled amidst the sound of shells. Then Ivan asked him to bring a letter. The letter was very light, and the address was in Donetsk, an area controlled by the Russian army. Chen Mo walked through the gray area, identified street signs in the ruins, took the bread from the soldiers at the checkpoint, and knocked on an iron door with a faded sticker. Behind the door was an old lady. She took the letter, held it against her chest, and stood for a long time with her eyes closed. There was only one sentence in the letter: "Mom, I am alive. Don't sell it in the bakery. Wait for me to come back." From reporter to messenger, Chen Mo discovered that some things are heavier than photos. And what he really needs to deliver may be far more than this letter.