My brother is a war journalist. He corresponds for Reality TV from places all over the world where conflagrations take place. This year, he went to Iraq to question Saddam, but unfortunately, the dictator was hanged, so he missed the opportunity.
On the 11th of September 2001, he was present in one of the twin towers, in order to photograph the airplane hitting the other twin tower. Unfortunately, the pilot was drunken and hit the wrong tower. My brother broke an ankle while racing the other journalists downstairs, while his unfortunate colleagues were trapped in the elevator.
My mother is very upset with his job. When he returns from who knows what desert war, his boots are filled with sand and my dog is very allergic to it. That is very dangerous for the dog. And, as well, the dog becomes very aggressive and bites whatever he encounters in his way. Last Sunday, it was the case of my brother s foot. And, as he introduced his teeth into it, he inhaled more sand. And his raged restarted. And so on, this episode continues also today.
My brother took part in the shooting of the film War of the worlds, as he also writes war film chronicles. He was aboard a giant tripod that invaded Earth. He suffered a terrible injury, in the end of the film, as a bird, allied with humankind, attacked the tripod, dropping something in his head. The medical exam showed no trace of alien substances.
I like my brother s work. He is always nice and, as he returns from a top secret mission, like that involving kidnapping fellow journalists in Syria, he always brings back nice things, like arms or legs of hostages. My favorite present was the heart of Slobodan Milosevic.