There is a distance between being and nothingness that travels in two directions, and not every person is able to travel it in the right direction, let alone the blurry vision of his daily reality. A monotonous, gloomy life is lived by the young Munira, and when she finds no taste, color, or smell, she flees from it to tranquillizers first, and to throw drugs later, to settle a bubble of illusion that will soon explode explosively, with it a fountain of blood that flowed from the girl's vein in abundance.
Did Munira really attempt suicide? She herself does not know, and in order to answer in the negative or affirmative, she had to go through a journey towards the self that moved her spatially from one country to another, and toppled her temporally, so it was the dark past, the arduous present, and the unknown future at the same time, and as in all travels, the novel folded the distance by folding faces and scenes And events gathered in the memory bag, and when it was scattered, this novel was.
