The street scape of Broken Hill, "the accessible outback" country town of Australia, is seen from the viewing platform of a Lebanese reality. Houses, neat, some pretty, some with children playing in front collide with sounds remembered from so long ago, maybe from one of Beirut's many wars, maybe even from future wars.There, exponential repetition sets apathy on a collision course with fear where mangled silences interrupt - but only to disrupt the remnants of safe living and to send eidetic shock waves through rose-colored lenses. The question of responsibility then emerges to demand, if not an answer, then a pause for grief, for consideration due to the boundaries of the senses and the centrality of the body's - any-body's - pain and sorrow.