Where is the border line between real and surreal? Are we living in a dream; In one of the Dali's paintings or in a movie of Bunuel? Or is it still the actual world where we are lost in? I though art could always be the most brutal of a human kind or as Artaud puts it Cruelty. But I seem to have been wrong.
"Another blanket is opened; inside are the bodies of a mother and child. The child, six or seven years old, is lying against his or her mother, as if seeking comfort. But the child has no head." Reports the Independent.

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