CYPRUS sea- and sun-kissed. But subservient to the colonialists. When the time is right, her people stand up, alone, against an empire. They fight and hope. It hurts and bleeds. To the gallows of the English first. And then to the Turk. The invader who drowns the island in blood that black summer of '74. The summer of the dead, the prisoners, the uprooted, the thousands of missing. Maritsa who was left with an empty, orphaned embrace. Helen who refuses to wear a black dress because they didn't give her a body to share. Of Vagorakis who stands all day long with the picture of a lost father hanging on his unripe chest. Nikos, Andreas, Markos, black and white images in front of lit candles. Men, women, children, our brothers and sisters in Cyprus. This is their justice and their tears. This is their struggle.

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