She cupped each breast in her hand, hoping they might have grown a little fuller, more womanly. She took from her pack an old-fashioned flannel nights...irt and dropped it over her head. It was just the thing for sleeping in, for the nights could be chilly, even in July. Then she took out her hairbrush and brushed her hair for fifty strokes. She held onto the brush and took from her pack two long scarves. Then she blew out the candle and groped her way to the bed.The blackness was total, like. She fought a rising urge to vomit, knowing that vomiting would only make her situation worse.“If you don’t swallow, you’ll end up drowning.” he said.She knew he was right, so she started to swallow.Her former boss left.Some time latter, another man came in and sat down on her toilet prison. The outside light was cut off and several LED lights came on inside the box. Two, a little bit above her face to either side, and one just below, and behind from her position, the front lip of the bowl.Her. The sounds were getting louder, but I could start to make out words, at least coming from Michael.“Ohh god baby that’s right!….yeah! You suck that dick you fucking slut! God you’re a slut, suck it!” Michael practically screamed this at the top of his lungs as I peeked into the half-closed doorway. My mom and Michael were on my mom’s bed. Michale was lying back, butt naked and my mom was nude except for the necklace and a small white G-string, clinging to her skin tightly as Michael aggressively. That became a definite problem. Route Indigo was not as much of a main road as Route 1 from Baghdad to Ramadi. It was narrower, had some twists and turns to it, and was easier to interdict. There was one spot, about halfway between Anaconda Two and Anaconda Three, where the road took a sharp turn along the bank of the canal. We called it the ‘Bend’. It was completely out of sight from either Anaconda Two or Anaconda Three, and it became a favorite of the hajjis for planting devices and taking.
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