Delicately, she stroked a lock of hair from his forehead, as she often did while he slept, feeling her breath tighten at the scar carved through his r...ght eyebrow, ending at the top his cheekbone.There was so much she wanted to know. So much to learn in a shrinking amount of time.The memorable morning had happened in early February, almost a month ago. Would she ever forget it? Nahar, her eight-year-old brother, had bounded into the valley, AK Kalashnikov rifle bouncing around his neck,. I knew I mustlook like a complete baby, trapped in my highchair wearing my filthybibbie, sucking thirstily from my titty-bottle. With a brief smile for myhumiliating situation, she disappeared into the lounge room and I heardher switch on the television. I sat there in the kitchen slurping on thesilicon teat for about twenty minutes, staring vacantly around the emptyroom, bored out of my mind. I wriggled about on the soft soggy warmthcushioning my bottom, perversely enjoying the feel of my. More

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