Naga raced across the floor. She knew if she crawled, the pebbles would dig into her skin and make her sore. She made for the nearest pole and climbed to the highest rafter, where she curled up and watched the man on the crocus-sack mattress, grunting and writhing . . .
Tag: Lelawattee Manoo-Rahming
Featured: Music/Popular Culture/Art
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