“Chasing the Echoes of Home: A Journey Through Memory and Migration”
I swallowed my fear. “It’ll just be for one night.” Ginnie’s apartment on Hamra Street was across from Groovy’s, my favourite store in Beirut’s downtown fashion district. There was a cool pair of jeans on display in the storefront window.
Daddy shook his head. “The city is crawling with terrorists. What did Ginnie tell you about her father? What’s he doing here?”
“Most foreign diplomats have been repatriated,” Maman said in an accusatory tone. “Everyone in their right mind is trying to get out.” She glared at Daddy.
Post Comment