The cook sweated and did all of the waitering. Khozem marveled at his speed. In a few hours Khozem drank twenty two cups of tea, had used the lavatory...seven times, and had watched the old men play four games. The cook did not mind Khozem’s loitering as long as he purchased more tea. Khozem stopped ordering the tea as afternoon prayers came.He had little hope he would see Rashida. He believed Allah had a hand in his disappointment. Half the day wasted, and with a heavy pound on the table he. “She looks awful! No one’s gonna want to fuck something looking like that – oops, sorry, F-word. And who’s the Asian in the pyjamas?”“I think he’s the priest – Father Ambrose. I think he might be Goan…”“What the fuck’s that mean – goin’? Anyway, they all look the same to me… Hey, is it true that if you go to confession you can get your throat fucked by the priest? That must be – oh fuck, sorry, there I go again – oops, oh fuck, I just can’t stop saying…”“SHUT THE FUCK UP, CLAIRE!” Alison. More

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