"Plaster," by David Szalay
Briefly

"They are stuck in a hotel waiting for a flight that never seems to come, passing time poolside in low-key surroundings, with intriguing yet frustrating routines."
"The atmosphere is one of uncertainty and longing, marked by the fleeting joys of a modest swim and the layered sounds of a city alive with distant calls from mosques."
Read at The New Yorker
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