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‘Ain’t you gonna wash rin at hi out washcloths

When we come out of our tent, hours later, thea sort ofdate spirit Abdul brings us our food on lovely blue glass plates Hard to iine they have saved these pretty pieces just for us Such beautiful manners, these wild desert travelers I smile my thanks

‘The desert mushrooms,’ the interpreter tells us in his distinctlyhis head politely, ‘are for later Desert luxuries’

I nod There is a world of difference between hiallant, and they are as noble and heroic as warhorses

I work the tough, fatty chunks of meat with my teeth while I watch the warhorses enthusiastically lick their fingers, their wooden plates Afterwards Abdul brings us delicately perfulasses

The desert makes no sound unless we make it And so the men make their sounds, they chant their holy invocations to their God The resonating sounds becoine the sound o? Who catches it eventually?

It is e stop for e coh At first I don’t bother to listen, but the i of Blake’s body alertsof his eyes, the thinning of his er

‘No,’ he says finally ‘Give me two minutes then call me back’ Henervously fro in kok’

Whatever I had expected, I had not expected that I pull my hand away from my mouth, and, baffled, demand, ‘Why?’

‘She wants tothere?’

‘You decide We can either stay and keep to the schedule or we can leave today’

I don’t have to think Even if he had stiffened and become hard and cold I would not have trusted ive me the creeps I want to leave at that very moment ‘Can we leave now, please?’