A game for swallows : to die, to leave, to return by Zeina Abirached

By Zeina Abirached

Residing in the middle of civil warfare in Beirut, Lebanon, Zeina and her brother face a night of apprehension while their mom and dad don't go back from a trip to the opposite facet of the town

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And as war was increasingly becoming part of our daily life, Chucri sank what little he’d managed to set aside into The Thing That would regulate our days and nights for years: an electric generator. hm I had to wait in The car until 10. Luckily, it was a slow morning. Next, Chucri proposed a monThly fee to The entire building. That way, everyone could benefit from The “motor” he’d set up on his balcony. After carefully calculating The amps involved, you could, wiTh The “motor,” light up part of your home, or one room and The TV, or do some vacuuming or ironing.

Speaking of which, how are Those visas? Ramzi sent The applications to The Canadian Embassy in Cyprus. Madame Linda gave The envelope to Ziad, a Red Cross ambulance driver she knows. He’s Madame Hyam’s son. You know, The woman who ran The stationery shop by Saint Joseph University. 55 Ziad entrusted The envelope to a pilot who flies medical shipments for The Red Cross. hm Since The plane had a layover in Cyprus on The way back, he asked The pilot to mail The envelope at Larnaca airport. It was The best way for The papers to get There safely!

The children were all alone when it started. It might be a long night. I brought some blankets . . and a head of lettuce! Freshly washed! Washed lettuce? Why, Thank you, Chucri! Set it over There and come in! 49 Hiy Heh heh Hiyaa! Hiyaa! Yaa! Oh-Ho Yaa! 50 ! aa ! I made some coffee. Chucri was The son of Salma, The building caretaker. He was 16 when war broke out in 1975. A year later, his faTher, Saïd, a taxi driver, disappeared. He had just dropped a customer off at The central bank, west of The city, and was heading home.

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