Indian Slut

She wanted him. She wept.Through my leaves, the man looked toward his god for mercy. Warm light sprinkled upon him. The woman bathed his forehead with...water from a plastic jug. Removing the scarf was forbidden to her. Rivulets, pink like the petals of my spring, washed into the soil.A calm took him and his eyes were clear. He reached out and grasp the hem of the woman's robe. He tugged it free from her knees. He shuddered and coughed with the last of his strength. His arm fell back.She did not. It was a small comfort, especially since Brownie was visibly nervous as they began searching the house.Once at headquarters they took the usual photos and, of course, fingerprints, Lee's and mine. Then they herded us into separate rooms and left me, at least, alone for a while, presumably to stew about my situation.I didn't stew, I just sat calmly. I wasn't concerned about Lee, she'd be out pretty quick. I'd told her to admit to her maiden name but say nothing else, nothing at all, except to. More

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