It’s a pleasure to have part two of this beautiful story.
The building that houses the Ministry of Labor is an aging bureaucratic tomb, a relic from before the wars and the sanctions crippled the economy and froze Baghdad in time. It’s shaped like a giant propeller, three long hallways with scuffed tile floors that meet in a center hub, each lined with what used to be offices. A few are cluttered with books toppled from upended shelves, and there are clumps of human excrement in the shadows.
Sean‘s captain tells them they can visit in one of the cleaner rooms on the second floor. Ehda’a comes every third day, Sean‘s day off, and they find an empty office, close the door, and sit together alone, completely alone, for the first time. They start slowly, just kissing, but then they’re necking and petting like two kids in a Buick parked along a Pensacola beach. Except they’re not in…
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