Sophie lopes off in fear and is shot down. I watch as one foreleg waves and paws at the air. The camel is the passion, the pain of the desert. ‘My ...eart belongs to the camel In his humps is a somber vitality Poured in by centuries of slavery He hauls his burden, but longs for the cloudy blue He howls with the fury of love His patience nurses the desert’ –Sabir Sophie calls out and her voice is lost in the wind. I am glad I can’t hear her wails. They are coming for me. They have been looking. " Yes you do!" she said brightly. "That would work just fine."I think she thought that the conversation was over."There's still a problem." What?" I have to have something to clean up with."With that, she sat down."Hell."The solution wasn't the best, but then there wasn't a 'best' that either of us could think of. So, I have a binder that I can reach under the couch and get. It has a washcloth in it. Nothing looks suspicious. The worst of it is that Theresa has to pick it up, dump it into the. More

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