"What'chu got in the box?" He pointed toward the pack horse behind me."What's left of the lady's husband," I said, hoping he would turn his back. The ...ther two were sizing up the woman, whispering and guffawing with each other."Widder are she," he laughed. "We likes them jus' fine, don' we boys." He laughed again and spat. "Who y'joshin'?" he demanded, looking evil. "That there's no coffin." He pulled a knife, cut the straps and the box fell to the ground. The lid popped open and out came a few. I still felt a bit hot from all the testing though, and decided to take the long way home through my gardens and open courtyards.The moon had set hours ago, and Dakar has a tradition of no external lights on the night on Judgment 1, in sympathy with the monastery boys facing their gates. I found the tradition encouraging, a show of compassion by the township. But turning off lights is a far cry from turning off the practice of culling children. The gulf between their Holy and mine is still so. . You touch your pinkness, rubbing gently, your fingers becoming instantly wet, which you move up to your lips and lick, your eyes closing as you inhale your own taste. You touch yourself again, deeper this time much to the delight of the throbs coursing my body, and offer your fingers to me. I lick them clean. You dance over, remove my linen shirt and unbuckle my belt, my shutter clicking open and closed all the time. You unbutton my jeans and unzip me. I lie down on the blanket and slip my. We danced, and one or the other was always there to keep me from breaking down or doing something that either April or I'd regret later. The happy couple took off in a limo to some other hotel before their trip to Europe.Ken, April's father came up to me after they threw the rice and asked how business was going. I used that as a turning point to refocus my attention on work. He was a godsend. Those simple words caused me to go from a lonely puppy dog without a home to a businessman in the time.