“Oh, I plan to have plenty of pictures of you too, my sweet,” I said.“That’s better,” she said, leaning against me.I stood up and pulled her...up with me. I used my best Sunday Night Football voice.“Are you ready for some pussy?” I quipped.It really was interesting, as things turned out, and not quite what my preconceptions expected.They didn’t just crawl on the bed and do it. By that, I mean I expected Emma to lie on her back and spread her legs, and for Ashley to crawl on and feast. But it. “We must go to the mosque and see the amilsaab there, and only he can cast this devil out. You don’t know your prayers, you don’t do your Arabic lessons, I called the police and the missing persons bureau, I had no idea where you went or who you were with, it’s so terrible, and you dare try to hug me?”Mustafa fell back on the love-seat and held his head in his hands. He saw his mother as a caricature, a big rat embracing something too old, too ancient. His disdain for everything Arabic. More

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