SJ: Hi. I wasn't an author last year, the year before, or the year before that, so this year is the year I'll do this. It's something I feel I have to do, and it's my tribute as much as it's the Guardian's. I don't own a thing.



Naid dumped the wood out of her arms and sat down next to it, making sure Sola was locked in her soul room and that no one was around. She piled up some of the wood and left the rest, carefully counted, where it lay.

Digging around in her pocket she pulled out a box of matches and used them to light the pile of wood.

"One for fathers that will never see their grandchildren." She placed a piece of wood on the burning pile and did that for each other group.

"One for mothers who will never see their children again.

"One for wives who will never have children and one for husbands who will never sire them.

"One for women who will never wear a wedding gown.

"One for men who will never get married.

"One for foreigners who will never go home again.

"One for the heroes who died trying to save the others.

"One for the heroes that caused their plane to crash in a field and not a building.

"One for the families of the lost. Lastly …"

She paused. This next one was something virtually no one agreed with her on, one reason she gave her tribute alone.

"And lastly, one for the deceived people who did it. God have mercy on their souls."