Whispers was always a terrible nightclub. It was one of those places you would never plan to go to but then after about the fifth drink with the gang ...fter work on a Friday you'd somehow find yourself there anyway. The kind of place where married men would slip their wedding rings into their pocket, buy you drinks you didn't ask for, then call you a bitch if your knicker-elastic didn't instantly dissolve in proximity to a sugary cocktail. The kind of place where divorced women would dress in. "Kinna not have people. Kinna run away. Chakcha live in Chakcha city, tell wekind what to do, when to have babies. Kinna not want to do this, so run away. Live all summer in deep woods. Kinna lonesome." Her soft, lisping voice reflected a wistful sadness that tugged at Mak's feelings. "Now you run away from strange Chakcha. Kinna no alone any more. We live free in woods." But I'm not a slave, and I didn't run away. Those people back there are my friends and companions. We all work together. Our. More

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