Teet's bloody sister says she's wearing baby pink now. You haven't left everything to the last minute, have you?
They come back home from their flesh trade just before their husbands get back from their jobs.
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Fierce as the Chinese dragon, green and red inked, bug-eyed and fire-spitting, tattooed on her back, under her left shoulder. The first time we fucked, afterward, she said:—You are the twenty-five percent.(Seventy-five percent of men ejaculate two minutes after penetrating.)~ The setting, Nairobi: the multiracial mix of people, the idiosyncratic weather, the sights, the sounds of that gray-stone city. Judging by the nearest buildings, identical apartment blocks in a walled compound, Leo’s penthouse was eleven stories high. She parked by the door of the butcher’s, right next to the medium-sized supermarket with an Indian nameplate. You go on ahead, take anything you want, it’s on me. ~ First thing I noticed when I entered the supermarket was the checkout counter, three cash registers squatted on it, manned by a triad of Indian women, who by their ages could have been daughter, mother, and grandmother. The daughter looked up and nodded, the mother turned her face aside, and the grandmother, her watery eyes magnified by spectacle lenses, stared fixedly at me.
Clan mother to waifs, yet childless herself, monthly mourning missed chances. Then I moved forward, to the wall of the patio, and looked down at Nairobi, stretched out under me in every direction. We’d gone days without a fight, days of weaving dreams about motherhood and second chances, the childhood we never had. The only problem was she also had plans for another night of clubbing, and I didn’t have a change of clothes. We drove to the supermarket in her official car, a tinted-glass Land Rover.