Last Sunday, I went to the beach. And even though I absolutely hate going to the beach on weekends, we found a quiet, simple little place where only others, like us, go for some peace and quiet; sun, sea, and sand.
As we were making our way back from Jiye (south of Beirut), we were expecting to see the regular vendors of ears of corn, watermelons, and whatever is planted in the vicinity. We sometimes stop by and buy really beautiful ears of corn – you know, the kind you don’t find in even the most prominent supermarkets – before heading home. However, as we drove through the area where they usually set up their little stands, I was shocked to see the first three stands empty, with a few ears of corn laying on the floor. The next three stands seemed to have been the object of a massacre.