With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. It feels like it. There was something holding women down, holding women back, and if it wasn’t exactly man-made law, man-made law was an aspect of it. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 16:25:38