She led me by the hand and gestured towards the sofa. She wanted me to cool down and we went no further. Damn! After that each time I met her I kept ...dmiring those lovely lips and the passion that they had potential for. How did she keep those emotions buried? Or did she just conceal them? These Indian women! My close buddy Brad had a way with women. Over a couple of beers, a few days later we shared our experiences as we always did. Brad had no doubts that I was winning. ‘Chuck, you lucky. ’ I ignored the sexual implication and walked past the smelly man carrying my supplies. He reeked as much as his prison, a not too dissimilar smell. That miasma of unwashed flesh, corrupted by the accumulated sins they had gathered unto themselves. ‘Take this harlot for example,’ I thought as I stepped in and saw her huddled in the corner. Then she turned to look at me, the dim light from the narrow slit highlighting her face and I saw what my master had spoken of. The face of an angel! That it. More

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