Something glistens in her eye slightly, from the rain probably; but maybe not. My breath catches slightly in my throat. Not the rain.The bench she lea...s me to is covered by the tent, but only barely. Wind shifts and rain blows in sideways and up and down and we sit there. Staring at each other. Saying little. She makes this expression. As hard to describe as she is. For what adjectives run together to make a person like her. It's sad, hangdog, heartbreaking. I have no idea why. Or what it. Can you manage some grub?"The thought of food reminded me how hungry I was. I nodded, and she went out to the kitchen. I heard her singing to herself as she got the utensils for the meal but sleep soon overpowered me."Wake up, sleepy head." Maggie stood in front of me, and there was the glorious smell of frying bacon. The thing you miss most of all in Moslem countries is not alcohol but bacon. It's no wonder they are all raving nutters in the Middle East, there ain't no bacon sarnies to comfort. More

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