Night falls over Beirut. Fadi, a forty year old, packs his luggage and sets out to the airport with his friend driving him. He is supposed to leave for a month, but instead of going up the plane, he heads to the arrivals section and rents a car. He takes the highway heading North then continues on a mountainous route. Far from anyone, on a deserted highway, a deviation forces him to quit the main road. A distinct sound coming from far is heard; the sound of a car honk. Fadi gets closer and closer to the sound and sees a wrecked car crashed in a tree alongside the road. A couple lay still inside. Fadi moves the head of the young man that was resting on the horn and the sound faints away. He watches their bloody faces, hears a hiss coming from the motor and then sees it catch fire. Instinctively, he steps back. Flames eat the car up as Fadi watches in horror. After a while, having continued on his way, he pulls over to the side of the road and sleeps off what he experienced earlier. The next morning, he drives to a hotel in the middle of nowhere where he is expected. He is given a room at the highest level. The food, towels and sheets are waiting for him in the hall. Not a soul will bother him. Fadi will isolate himself in that hotel, literally locking himself in his own room.
—Ghassan Salhab