The sound of Adhan goads me into wakefulness. But once my slits are open and I see the naked figure lying next to me undisturbed, I sense the cheerfulness of pious Beirut hiding behind the colorless drapes. I’m almost grateful I’m here, you know? The aroma of sex and sweat is now even more distinguishable—it’s virtually suffocating. The bedroom, dim and gray, silently listens to the morning chants. It cleanses itself from the ineffable deeds that occurred within its four walls; it begs for forgiveness on behalf of those who are unapologetic.