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He doesn’t even look surprised as he falls back, the ugly blood spoiling the pretty quilted blanket. Funny, I don’t feel as good as I thought I w...uld. But he doesn’t look surprised. He’s still smiling as he spasms, the spike of metal shaking in his eye. In the long grasses, they couldn’t have seen us from the car. I shove a few strawberries into my mouth and rip open his leather jacket to expose the hand cannon he keeps under his shoulder. A big silver .449 calibre revolver, and the two. As I pulled the phone up and noticed his name across the screen, I debated whether I should answer it or not. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I pushed the talk button and pulled the phone to my ear. “Hello,” I whispered in a nervous, cracked voice. I almost couldn’t even get my simple hello out, as the words got choked in my throat. “Wow,” he whispered on the other end. “It’s one thing knowing you are real, its another hearing it.” “Yeah,” was all that I could respond with. “How are you,” he. In a harem of three wives and sixty concubines, a woman did not sleep with the Emir very often, and there was no social contact between the sexes, with the exception of the Head Wife. None of the present concubines had met the Emir before her first encounter with him in a bedroom. None had entered his bedroom more than twice a year, some only once in their lives. The Head Wife, Djamilla, and the second, Davina, had spent a number of nights in his room, but even they were rarely able to see him. It didn’t totally surprise me because Meena watches kids during the day. I walked up to the door and rang the door bell. Jairam answered the door and I walked in. Jairam introduced me to this girl Asha. She was the mother of one of the girls that Meena watches. She had been kicked out of her parents house and was spending a few weeks with my brother until she could get back on her feet. That night we were watching a movie. Sometime in during the middle of the movie Meena insisted we brake out.
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