Palestinians gather in the street after an Israeli airstrike in the Gaza Strip on Monday. (Mahmud Hams/AFP)

Mosab Abu Toha is a Palestinian poet, short story writer and essayist from Gaza.

In this prison that is Gaza, when we hear a bomb falling, we ask ourselves: “Is it my turn this time?”

I live in the North Gaza city of Beit Lahia, just about two miles away from the border. Here is the scene shortly before 7 a.m. on Saturday, when normal — normal for Gaza, anyway — turned to something else.

I’m heading off to the school where I teach. The car arrives to pick me up. My 7-year-old daughter, Yaffa, is leaving to wait for her school bus. Suddenly, a rocket shoots across the sky.

My wife tries to reassure me: “It’s just a test. They’re firing toward the sea.” She could be right. That sometimes happens even during “peaceful” times. But then another rocket takes off, this time definitely heading for Israel. Then more rockets, flying from all directions.

(snip)

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/10/10/gaza-israel-hamas-war/