“Not even close,” she said. When she was in the shower, I picked up the book. Turning to the table of contents, my eyes fell on a story entitled �...�Saffron.” I could still hear the water running as I read the story of a sixteen-year-old girl named Fay who was both beautiful and innocent. She easily fell under the spell of the much older Albert, a man in his forties who had sophisticated ways, a good family name, and a large home with many attractive female black servants. Fay was not used to such. The next word she uttered, I rushed her to the wall. As I rushed her to the wall all I could feel was only her straps behind her Tee, and our legs crawling over the dry smooth floor. I locked her to the wall. We were smiling, breathing heavily.Me: I never had the guts.Her: I also. Never thought I could invite you home. Yarum parkla la? (No one saw you, na?)Me: Illa (Nope.)Her: Enne da? (Look at my eyes) I kissed her. What else I could do? I kissed her, first nervously, then confidently, then. More

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