They did not threaten him. The guards remained cordial, almost pleasant. They were not permitted to bring him food. They tolerated Khozem’s screaming. These screams were mostly curses. The guards reclined on swivel chairs, reading the newspapers or playing cards. These guards thought of putting the tin can over him but instead ignored his insults.Khozem collapsed in the middle of the cell, plaintively calling Rashida’s name. He refused to believe she was dead. He suspected a conspiracy to imprison both of them in separate areas of the kingdom.He threatened the guards with his father’s name for a few hours, but they continued reading. Khozem vowed revenge. Justice would come to the whole, corrupted lot, and he and Rashida would be together again.The next morning, the guards shook Khozem awake. In his exhaustion he was escorted to another wing of the precinct. He was the only prisoner kept there. As he walked with the guards, he noticed rows and columns of steel doors installed in the. That said I didn't know her at all. My parents had moved from southern California, shortly after they were married. Which by the way was when they were eighteen. I was their second son and born before their second anniversary. As couples who marry young often do they had a turbulent relationship. But since this story is about her and me, not them I'll skip ahead. The day I graduated high school we moved back to southern California. My parents were separated again, dad had moved first, mom was in pursuit. After a year of living apart she got her man. Dad had his fill of strange pussy again and was back. About six months later mom threw dad a fortieth birthday party. I don't think that it was the first time I'd met her but it was the first time I'd noticed. Her name was Laura.To tell the truth Laura was kind of plain, her body that of a thirty-six year old mother of three. But I was an eighteen year old virgin, a little over weight. Tired of chasing girls who just wanted to be.
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