His name was Aylan Kurdi. He was three years old.
His five-year-old brother Galip and his mother Rehan were also lying dead a few steps away.
Together with his father Abdullah, Aylan left his town Kobane, and was flung into the Mediterranean on a dinghy that capsized carrying 13 more souls to freedom.
Aylan might be free now, however, the image of his tiny body washed ashore has haunted our souls. The question is: for how long?
The conflict in the Middle East has been generating dead bodies for more than four years now, yet it seemed so distant and complicated for most first world citizens that only few would engage.
No matter how many stories were published on the Syrian tragedy, no matter how many soldiers and journalists died reporting on countless dead children, our conscience would fall asleep soon afterwards.
The debate around this picture has become an endless argumentum ad absurdum.
Are we shocked because it deeply shakes us within or because it creates a feeling of unease unsuitable to our comfort zone?
Is showing the dead child’s photo an act of disrespect towards him and his family; towards humanity itself?
To this argument, one can raise the thousands of bloodstained photos of decapitated and shot to death children from Syria, which in an ‘equally disrespectful’ manner have been surfing the media.
No matter how exposed to the obscene we are, we still manage to rationalise our horror and let it go.
We have seen so many violence depictions that we have somewhat become desensitised.
Aylan’s tiny body, however, lying peacefully ‘asleep’ on one Bodrum’s most popular sandy resorts did spread sentiment around the globe.
Within hours, pity and sadness were succeeded by anger and repugnance.
This dead child’s image, though, is hardly gruesome or revulsive in a literal sense.
What is disturbing about his photo is probably how much it touches home, whilst being one swim away from Europe’s doorstep.
Perhaps our aversion to this ‘politically-incorrect’ portrayal of reality stems from how difficult Aylan has made it to keep turning our backs on his plight.
Perhaps he bares more resemblance to our safe western world children than we can handle.
Would his father’s voice describing how the sea swallowed his family have the same impact on social media?
Probably not.
Hours after the powerful photographs emerged, many Conservative backbenchers began to urge Australia and the US to accept more refugees.
European Union leaders announced they will convene at an emergency summit on 14 September to process, identify and aid the thousands of migrants entering the continent.
Aylan’s perilous journey towards the European Promised Land came to an end in Bodrum.
Meanwhile, his photograph continues to travel spreading a powerful message.
How we choose to decipher it and whether it will reach its destination, is another matter.