I struck off up the dirt road toward my family home. Three hours later I was just coming onto our ranch land and things started to really look wrong. I had been noticing little things that weren’t quite right all along, but put them down to things changing because I had been away from home so long, but what I was seeing now … this … was just … wrong. I had come to the crossing of Blanched Creek, but where was the bridge that my dad and uncles built when I was just 10? There was no sign it had been washed away in a flood. In fact, it looked like it had never even been there in the first place. The road just headed straight into the ford. And… now that I was paying closer attention, where were all the fences that I had spent so much time as a kid repairing? Well, maybe the bridge had been washed out and the fences fallen down to disrepair, but none of my family had ever mentioned the place being in this kind of shape and I had been over that bridge not all that long ago on one of my. Suddenly I noticed everyone stepping aside to allow three black men who had just walked in to walk freely about the room. One man, who was clearly in charge, was followed by other two ones. All black members of the gang either stepped aside and allowed him to pass or approached to greet him. Either way they showed him some sort of respect. I understood then that black man in his forties was a high ranking member of the gang who controlled this local territory. The two other men were his body guards…I saw Jamal was leaning on my wife; but he was looking at the gang leader. He appeared to be giving Ana some instructions. The gang leader sat down on sofa to socialize. It was then that my wife moved and approached that black man. Ana’s breasts bounced and her hips swiveled as she walked and everyone started looking at her as she got closer to the gang leader. Without saying a word she lifted her dress slightly and abruptly straddled his legs and sat down on his hips. She leaned in and.
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