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Unformatted text preview: thes in very bright red and blue and white, clothes that were tight around their plump arms. The woman, when she saw Emaleth, got up and came to the transparent door. "Good heavens, child! Come inside here," she said, looking up into Emaleth's eyes. "Jerome, look at this. This child's stalk naked. Look at this girl. Oh, my Lord in heaven." "I've washed in the water," said Emaleth. "Mother is sick under the tree. Mother can't talk anymore." Emaleth held out her hands. They were wet. Her hair hung wet on her breasts. She was slightly cold, but the air of the room was warm and still. "Well, come in here," said the woman, tugging her hand. She reached for a piece of cloth on a hook and began to wipe Emaleth's long dripping hair. The water made a pool on the shiny floor. How clean things were here. How unnatural. How unlike the fragrant beating night outside, full of wings and racing shadows. This was a shelter against the night, against the insects that stung, and the things that had cut Emaleth's naked feet, and scratche...
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- Spring '10