No more nervously scanning the concrete watchtowers as you drive near an Israeli settlement. No more being shot at for straying too close to an army post or standing on your own roof. No more gazing through high wire-mesh fences at the forbidden beach just a few dozen yards away. No more impotently staring at the cars bursting with settler children as they drive right past your nose to that very same beach. No more driving the roundabout coastal route because the main road is in no-man's-land. No more waking to the roar of bulldozers flattening your orange grove. No more aching shame at working for the settlers because there is nothing else. No more waiting for unexplained hours in the baking sun or through the night at the Abu Holi checkpoint, the only gateway between north and south.
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