Broken

Our rooms were large and luxurious, beds made with high-count Egyptian cotton, a large flat-screen TV, and mini-bar. French doors opened right out onto the patio and pool area. We made love and slept like babies. The next day Darius served us breakfast on the veranda, after which Raul gave me instruction on fly-fishing, something I’d always wanted to try, while Carman measured Susan’s breasts and made little marks on her tits with a water marker.

The operation would be in two days and until then, Carman said we should just enjoy ourselves. That evening Darius delivered what appeared to be another wonderful meal. I took a sip of a green liquid that appeared to be some kind of iced-tea, finding it unique and delicious.

“Ummm. What is this?” I asked, indicating the drink.

“It comes from Uganda, made from a root it’s a type of their local tea,” she told us. “It has a mild narcotic affect sort of like drinking a glass of wine, but otherwise, it’s harmless. Darius has it brought in for us. Most people love it. I’ll give you some to take back home with you before you leave, if you’d like.”