Chapter Fifty-Six
How many people and how many different destinies Yosir had seen in the last two or three years. One day a young man of twenty-five had arrived with a group from Khorezm. He had a delicate face that simply radiated light. Although this wasn’t a place where acquaintances were encouraged, Yosir could always get to know someone by saying it was for the film that he and Zubair had been making for so many months.
But this time it happened for a different reason. One day, when they found themselves paired together for training exercises in guerrilla warfare, and were supposed, according to the instructions, to find their way – without exposing a glimpse of any silhouette, or shape, or shadow, or flash – to the rear of the supposed adversary and sit there for a couple of days,
