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‘You really are the sexiest sheik that ever walked a desert’ My voice sounds soft and fluttery

A corner of his mouth lifts ‘And you, raced any tent’

‘What if I buy you in at the market tomorrow?’

‘Honestly, can’t wait,’ he says, and his voice is so rich and deep my breath catches inI live, I know I’ll never forget this moment The feel of his skin onforward and the look in his eyes God, I love this ain will I run away

‘Do you think the men outside heard us?’ I murmur contentedly

‘If they didn’t hear us before they will now,’ he says, and, throwing a long,with a sheen of sweat out, reaches for the jar of spreadable chocolate

I giggle…but not for long

Four

So myself from Blake’s ehttea, or cutting their fingernails with the sharpened jawbones of ani camel hair rope while they look out for hyenas Hyenas, they claim, will even eat the dates from their supplies

Out of kindness and respect they never look directly at h the interpreter, I a on their conversations They speak of the desert as if it is a wonificent… In their blood They beseech the clouds above to rain on their woman ‘Why not burst a moment here?’ they entreat poetically

Wrapped in thick blankets I sit apart from them in the icy cold and watch the moon, the whitest, roundest melon It is still dark and utterly silent when the ca It is a surprisingly long process Again and again they ask each other, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I aht, though?’

‘Yes, yes, I’ood Really, are you?’

‘Me, I’m fine You are OK too?’

It see the process at every dawn No one looks at ether, their backs white with snow and pieces of mud and ice stuck to the strips of cloth tied to their footpads