A girl passes by, sees the bleeding door, opens it. A corpse lies beneath. The earth weeps. Though some fingers got cut, the dead young man still clutches in his hand a very old key—the only thing he’s inherited from his father. It’s the key to their house in Yaffa. He was sure it’s been destroyed, but the key will be his passport to Yaffa when they return. Now, neither he nor their knocked-down house in the Refugee Camp can stand.
