Received: from [81.171.25.37] (port=36539 helo=toolsforbed.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cVhet-00035h-SN for lojban@lojban.org; Mon, 23 Jan 2017 08:39:59 -0800 Date: Mon, 23 Jan 2017 09:39:26 -0700 Subject: I had the best-sex-over the weekend: He was more-erect and harder then ever with this-pill Message-ID: Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit To: Mime-Version: 1 From: "Alma Ford" Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii X-Spam-Score: -0.4 (/) X-Spam_score: -0.4 X-Spam_score_int: -3 X-Spam_bar: / coming for you

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You making me scared, Aunt Sylvie. I think shes got her eye on me. Well, I reckon you best go see what she up to. Granada gasped. What if she conjure me? Then dont let her catch you looking! And mind your leavings. I hear they can take a hank of your hair or your toenails or even a shoelace and lay a curse on you. Granada took a step back, but Sylvie grabbed the s arm. Go on now. You come back here and tell me everything she does. Granada steeled herself and then slipped quietly down the kitchen steps. As she crept like a cat across the yard and down toward the cluster of cabins, Granada dered exactly what it was she was supposed to be looking for. Whatever the woman did, the thought, was bound to be strange. For all she knew, the woman had already put a hex on her. When she got near enough to the cabins to watch, she made sure that she was well hidden behind the large cottonwood. Thats when Granada got a better look at what the woman was wearing on her head. Unlike the sugar sacks or checked gingham or homespun cloth Granada had seen the other women wear for head scarves, this one was violently flowered and slightly faded. But that wasnt the thing that riveted her attention. From the turban dangled bright disks that looked like coins. Even in the dim morning light her wrinkled brow seemed to be lit in a soft glow. The master pounded on the door of the first cabin. Cassius! Get your family out here. The cobbler, a longfaced, saddlecolored man, emerged from the cabin first. His woman, the milkyeyed Lizzie, followed him outside with his two little s from his first wife. The ren wiped the sleep from their eyes. Lizzie and Cassius hadnt been together long. A few years after the jealous mistress got Lizzies Rubina sent to the swamps, Lizzie had lost her husband to malaria. Aunt Sylvie never got tired of telling the story. She said Lizzie hadnt wanted a man, swearing she would never have another that could be snatched away so easily, but the master had insisted. Thats why she had chosen a man with a readymade family. But just in case she got with and needed to be unfixed, Lizzie kept a supply of Aunt Sylvies cotton root hidden away. Right there outside the front door, the old woman studied the eldest , rubbing his skin, peering into his eyes, and then caught his tongue with her fingers to get a closer look. She noisily sniffed his breath. She did the same with each member of the family. The only words she uttered were sharp commands to open a mouth or to roll an eyeball about in its socket. When she got to Lizzie and examined her milky eye, the one damaged by the excellent aim of the mistress, the old woman laid the palms of her withered hands against the luckless Lizzies face. The look she gave old sour Lizzie was so full of tenderness, Granada found herself suddenly lost in that astonishing act. For a moment she was filled not with the usual foreboding about Lizzie but with an overpowering love. Granada felt the deep, unrelenting ache the woman had been carrying in her chest, that dark crevice of grief. The had no idea how long it lasted, if it had been a fleeting moment or several minutes, only that during the spell she was aware of nothing but Lizzie. She came to her senses only when she found Polly Shine, her disks shimmering, staring hard in her direction, giving Granada a knog look. Granada tensed at having been found out, but the old woman smiled and turned away. She looked once more at Lizzie, and then cut her scalding gaze up toward the great house. As if pronouncing judgment, Polly Shine let go a hurtling stream of tobacco juice with so much fury the little disks that hung from her scarf commenced to jingle. Then, as if nothing had happened, she and the master went on to the next cabin, where she repeated her probing and prodding. At the last cabin the old woman announced confidently, Aint nothing wrong with this batch. Least nothing your family can catch. You best take me out to them you say is dying. That was it! The woman was looking for diseased slaves! Granada recalled all the frightened talk in the kitchen about the horrible sickness that had broken out among the slaves out at Motts quarter. But what could this witch want with them? If the white doctor couldnt save them, she asked herself, what was this meddlesome slave woman going to do? Maybe she was looking to cull them out like sick biddies, Granada guessed. When the master called for Chester to bring both the buggy and the stallion, Granada decided it was time to return to the great house and report what she had observed. She stepped carefully from behind the tree, trying not to draw attention to herself. Granada had only gone a few feet when she heard the womans voice piercing the morning calm. ! You come with me. Granada stopped in her tracks, her feet rooted in the ground by the womans words. The waited, listening for the masters voice, hoping he would scold her for leaving the house and send her back to help Sylvie with breakfast. You heard her, Granada, he said from up on his horse. You ride with Polly. Before Granada could argue, he was off at a gallop. • • • Morning broke with a weak sun struggling to peek through a dirty smear of sootcolored clouds. The two rode side by side in the buggy, the woman called Polly Shine acting like she was more interested in the rumps of the mules than in Granada. Each time Polly flicked the reins, or the wheel found a deep rut throg the buggy to one side, the little coins suspended from her scarf tinkled against one another like the crystal pendants in the mistresss chandelier. When they were out of sight of the plantation grounds, Polly all at once reined the mules to a stop, right in the middle of a canebrake. There was no one else in sight. The old woman turned to Granada and demanded, Hold out your hands. I aint took nothing of yours! Granada exclaimed. Hold out your hands, the old woman repeated in her bossy tone that didnt require a raised voice. Granada did as she was told. Polly grabbed both hands and turned them palmside up. She examined them for a long moment, and while she did, Granada became alarmed by the heat intensifying in the old womans grip. The womans hands were on fire. She finally released Granada. Polly shook her head and grumbled, I aint got no idea why the Lord chose somebody like you. Dont make any sense, giving you the gift.

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