Dire reality of living on the wrong side of the Syrian regime

We opened newspapers and computers last Thursday and were not prepared. A toddler, at first glance, asleep like my son: On his tummy, arms by his side.
I don’t need to describe how it felt to quickly come to the realisation that Aylan Kurdi was not asleep, or to describe the pain in your heart on realising he was dressed for the journey with his little shoes fastened tightly.