The ebony skin on his arms and forehead glistened from sweat in anticipation. He had long ago lost his nickname ‘Pit Bull’, and earned himself a n...w one, making himself the idol of the gang as ‘Punk Rocker’, because by now he was one mean punk, and if you messed with Tyrone he would definitely rock your world. To fit his image his hair was cut into a Mohawk, which was today at least, colored purple, as he rode up in the elevator to the top floor. Both Punk Rocker and Battle Dog were in the big. Taking her hand in mine, I said “It’s still bleeding...” noticing how calloused her hands were from hard work, and how dry her skin was.Getting up from the bed, I pulled out the first-aid box from my cabinet. Dabbing some disinfectant on a piece of cotton, I sat down beside her and took her hand in mine again.“Saheb, let it be ... why are you bothering?” she protested.“Just keep quiet...” I ordered her with mock anger.Smearing the disinfectant on her cut, I cleaned the wound first and taped it. More

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