I’m standing in front of Shwarma Zahra, arguably the tastiest shwarma in Lebanon, and the memories flood my body, overwhelming my senses: the taste of the perfectly seasoned chicken coupled with toum [garlic] that took me to nirvana with each bite, the scent of cooking meat overpowering the smell of car exhaust on the busy Haret Hreik street.Now, though, I stand in the middle of a ghost town with the once chaotic streets, filled to the brim with traffic, replaced by the eerie and unnatural stillness that brings with it a sense of sadness and dread.Like many others in the southern suburbs, the shwarma shop's doors remain shuttered with millions of tiny pieces of glass strewn across its steps, just like the countless lives shattered in this war.Every night I find myself sitting, waiting for the sounds of explosions that will inevitably rip...