Dressed in an Afghan robe typical of the local women, and wearing a purple head scarf, she does not stand out in any way, until you see her eyes. They...were a bright gray-blue that immediately attracts attention from all. She wore no makeup. Her dark complected skin was smooth except for some lines right around her brows, as if she often squinted. She had taken to wear Gunnar computer readers just to make her eyes look a little darker. She missed her Western clothes, but she can’t wear them in. She went to bed at the same time as most people were waking up, fortunately sufficiently exhausted not to be disturbed by the sun penetrating through the thin curtains to her bedsit or by the roar of the city traffic. She would wake up late in the afternoon and prepare breakfast and while away the hours in shopping for necessities, sitting in launderettes and watching programmes on the television she had precariously placed on a chair at the base of her bed. Different nights of the night club. I was sitting there talking about not going to the city nightlife (i live in a party town) and going down the main drag to look at tits and try to get some stranger into my bed. She laughed and said if I had beads I could see her tits even if she wasnt a stranger. At this point in my drinking it was a good idea. So luckily enough I had some beads in my jacket that was right next to the door. I pulled out the wad of beads and I turned to her. She stood there smiling at me, I had always thought. Yet the sex was on hold. Anais wasn?tpushy of overbearing. He seemed to enjoy just being with me. Theevenings were each special and different. Also something special hadoccurred; I stopped wondering what my life might become. I was livingit, and Anais?s attention provided me confidence and the freedom to bea woman. He didn?t say or do anything unique or different, but hesimply treated me as I hoped; as a female, and a woman to be concernedabout. His respect was what I hadn?t assumed from.
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