Sparks: I survived a missile strike in the Strait of Hormuz, but my friend has not been found

The same vortex that carries a leaf downstream swallows a man and a ship, a geometry of force indifferent to the life it transports.

This machine calculates a new variable - the precise arithmetic of who is found and who becomes an unresolved operand.

Modern war spares a man his life but takes his friend, leaving him the one thing a gentleman should never be - in debt.

Does the man who is not found possess a different quality of life than the one who is?

The proclamation will celebrate the secured shipping lane, not the widow who waits for a body that will not return.

A fiery wound in the water's green flesh reveals the discord that plagues the body of the world.

War is the river that is never the same for the man who steps into it twice.

A system that directs energy to shatter metal could instead transmit it to unite the world.

Why do we build the ships that carry the fuel that powers the machines that make the weapons that sink the ships?

They call his first job an adventure to disguise that it is a calculation of expendable young men.

Freedom is the precise number of passengers you set out with minus the ones you deliver.

This man's lost friend proves that some bodies are counted and others are merely subtracted.