in s, and as my oanding t only tely bound to me.

    I perspired faintly and imagined Black marveling at ts ensity—ratudying tration of t my fatually s only my breasts, but as if drunk  my  all of me. tracted to me t o t not summon as a youted patiently and bravely for my y of tter I’d ten him.

    I felt anger toting t be able to marry again. I rations urists make in imitation of ters, and I was sick of ions of Venice.

    my os, Black ly t in t rong  secure. My nape tingled, my nipples iffening. It seemed as if to me. My  was Black’s like? I wondered.

    At times in my dreams, my o me. I come to t my ruggling to keep   as  sadly, te bank, covered

    in blood and suffering terribly, I notice t . If it’s true  truto  gro large,” t so big. If Black’s is bigger, if t enormous t y piece of paper I’d sent by S yesterday; if t ually it—and it surely  pain, if it even fits inside me at all.

    “Mot is mocking me.”

    I left t, quietly passing into t from t and put it on. t my mattress and .

    “Didn’t I   to s, did I not?”

    “Mama,  red vest on?” S asked.

    “But Mot was mocking me,” Orhan said.

    “Didn’t I tell you not to mock ’s to there was a piece of animal hide.

    “It’s a carcass,” Or found it on treet.”

    “Quick, take it and t back w, now.”

    “Let S do it.”

    “I said now!”

    As I  my lo catch cold.

    Of all turists, I liked Black t. ood ook out pen and paper, and in one sitting,  o te the following: