I knocked. The sound echoed along the stark plaster walls of the dim corridor. I hesitated as my eyes adjusted to the gloomy hallway. What would happen in this war-torn land? Fear lurked in every corner. I had the urge to turn around and run down the stairs. I didn’t know what to expect. I could not speak Arabic and not many spoke English.
The closer I got to the top of the dark stairwell, the more I was convinced that no one could be living there. I smelled urine mingled with wet, torn mattresses. Broken glass, blackened walls and gaping holes from explosions added to the reality of war.
I was in Beirut on the edge of no-man’s land.
Suddenly, there was a burst of light and a young man stood in the doorway.
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