Open your eyes and you can talk.”I saw him in a black lounge robe with red trim, hopefully, skimpy briefs underneath. He’d made us a late dinner. ...ggs, pancakes, bacon and a pitcher of mimosa. I could tell he used grapefruit juice, my favorite and there were seven burning candles on the table.I could talk but all I could do was cry at what my husband had done for me and for us. He’s saying he forgave me, that he still loved and wanted me.“Is there something wrong?Wrong dear, why I haven’t. Doch außer meinem Trainer hörte in dieser Wüsteneinöde keine barmherzige Menschenseele mein klägliches Geschrei!Ich galoppierte mit meinen letzten Kraftreserven, trotzdem schrie Abdul: „Schneller, schneller!“ Und wieder verhalf die Peitsche seiner Forderung den gehörigen Nachdruck! Brutal zog die folternde Kandare meinen Kopf nach links, und ich spurtete nach links. Jetzt stand mir wenigstens die Sonne im Rücken. Ich rannte, hetzte, keuchte und ächzte; vor meinen Augen „tanzten Sterne“, doch. More

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