Tarik watched her with eyes she knew better than her boy’s. He watched her as the smoke roiled up into the sky behind him.
“There is no forgiveness for what we do, Nalah,” he said.
Nalah turned away from him. She stood at the edge of the desert, a woman alone at the edge of the world, a pile of bodies at her back. She saw the future spread out before her as the past, a long unending river of women and ladies, blood and sand.
“We have a long way to go across the sand before dark,” Nalah said.
Shani walked at Nalah’s left, Tarik at her right, and Nalah’s fighters followed behind.
They left a trail of footprints in their wake, footprints as constant as the shifting face of the desert.
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Table of Contents
The Women of Our Occupation
If Women Do Fall They Lie
Holding Onto Ghosts
Genderbending At the Madhattered
My Oracles at the End of the World
Once, There Were Wolves
Canticle of the Flesh
In Freedom, Dying
Women and Ladies, Blood and Sand