We walk along the avenue.
The long large sidewalk encircling the capital promontory on the edge of the sea. It’s a spring afternoon, year 2024. More than a decade has passed since, to an April day. The light is warm, like a halo effect of an old postcard. I had left the city long ago.
I turn to look at the cityscape facing the sea and Beirut suddenly grips me in a flash of heartache.