Bloodstains still mar some streets, several days after the state of emergency was declared. They are indistinct patches without identity. The preceding days and the initial hours of the emergency had witnessed stormy confrontations, with events becoming entangled and bloodstains overlapping.

When Hamad received a text message on his phone from an unknown source announcing Zahra's arrest... Bu Ali al-Hawa... like a shadow on water, he endures all tempests, pouring his ecstasy over the places he passes. He wanders wherever he goes, known to the streets, roads, and coasts for his imposing stature and concise features. He traverses paths as if they were deserts, lulled by his customary smile, an eternal sign, embraced by the distant horizon that separates night from day.

One night, it seemed to him he was like the prophet Moses; a voice from the heavens inspired him to leave hours before dawn. Secluded from life that day, he untied a small boat and sailed the seas.

The dusty wind resembled a haze, and the streets appeared almost empty of cars, although it was the weekend. The night seemed closer to dusk, though it was only midnight. A single car was approaching from the main street of the Sitra bridge, heading towards the turnoff to Muharraq.

Ahmed Jumaa, a writer from Bahrain.

• Publishing House: Dar Al Farabi for Publishing and Distribution
• Number of Pages: 424
• Year of Publication: 2013
• ISBN: 9789953719337
• Cover Type: Paperback