There's a long timber dining table in Theodore Ell's home that's scattered with dark little nicks amongst the grain. Subscribe now for unlimited access . Login or signup to continue reading All articles from our website & app The digital version of Today's Paper Breaking news alerts direct to your inbox Interactive Crosswords, Sudoku and Trivia All articles from the other regional websites in your area Continue They're from the shards of glass that embedded themselves in the surface during the 2020 Beirut explosion.
Ell and his wife Caitlin, then a diplomat with the Department of Foreign Affairs, were inside their apartment at the time, and found themselves thrown against walls, battered by falling glass and debris, and just centimetres away from death. When they returned to Australia the following year, in the midst of COVID, they brought with them a smattering of things that survived the explosion. The table has since been smoothed over by a furniture restorer; the nicks are visible, but don't snag on your palm.
Similarly, Ell has been able to separate himself from the blast in the four years since it happened. "I can recall every detail of it now, even as we speak," he says. "But it's as though it's separate from me.
It's like it's happening on a television screen." Theodore Ell with Jazzy - both survived the 2020 Beirut explosion. Picture by Karleen Minney We're in the living room of his tranquil Narrabundah house on a street lined with blossoming trees.
The setting empha.