Some time in the afternoon they woke and waited, stiff, thirsty, bruised, and crusted in dried blood. Safiya pulled her torn shirt together to cover h...rself. Her khaki shorts, filthy with dirt and torn from crawling, barely hung together on her thin hips. Zareb's long trousers gaped open at the knees; his shirt hung in ragged tears from his thick shoulders, exposing his muscular arms, his bleeding shoulder, and his dirt-encrusted thorn scratches. Maalik lay still. He breathed raggedly and tried. It waspurely people with means sharing with others they love.She herself had benefitted many times, too many to mention, includingfrom some information quietly given one evening at a private orgy with aparticularly rich European on-again off-again lover to ensure she'dnever have to work again her entire life. She let me know she stilldoes, however, because sharing other things with other people over theyears had allowed her the chance to start her own company, utilising herchemistry. More

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