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A lazy and dazed smile formed over her lips. A quiver jolted over her the moment his hand released her hair. Her head subtly dropped back, her every muscle felt relaxed by the rush of air filling her steadily heaving chest. She felt him move against her from behind, his right arm moved around her cinched waist. Her head lifted, his lips were felt against her ear and she again quivered with anticipation of hearing his voice within the blindfold’s darkness. He pressed his right hand firm against her abdomen, enjoyed the slick smoothness of the black vinyl and feel of her body heat penetrated through the thick material. He spoke into her ear, ‘That was just a little sample of forced smoking.’ his left hand moved to the base of her throat, ‘Since I’m only allowed some release, the full experience will have to wait.’ He slid his hand up from the base of her throat, guided her head back against his bare shoulder. He again spoke, ‘But I’m far from finished with my permitted little. He saw it as a haze to the north.And he knew that it was time."And I am saying to you, Old Man, that this is superstitious nonsense. It is like the tales your women tell around the water hole. Laughable except to children."The old man shook his head, slowly. "Listen to you speak! 'Superstitious nonsense'. 'Your women'. You have been away too long, that the camps of 'reason' would rob you of your sight." Perhaps not long enough." Mtumbe sighed. "You will travel a hundred miles of near-starvation, losing tens of lives, because of your fear of the yellow. Why not stay here, with no loss of life or limb, and taste of the fruit as it comes to ripening? Think of the children, at least, man!"The old man hummed for a moment. "I said something like that to your mother when she sent you to the missionary town with the jesusman. I wish she were here today to see what she has wrought." She would be, curse you, if you hadn't dragged her away from the fires of her home on your terrified scamper.
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