There was a book quietly sitting in Zahra’s mind. She already had the title; There is Something Sexy About Sharing the Apartment Rent, A Love Story. The characters were even there, ready to be inked into permanence. In her secret musings, she vowed that she would make her protagonists as Kenyan as possible. She didn’t talk about the book to anyone else because god forbid people found out that she was actually a romantic.
Today wasn’t a good Saturday, which is why she was thinking about the book again. Zahra was sitting at a café in town, ruminating over fictional stories, and waiting for her best friend. She was distracting herself from thinking about ‘it’ as she waited. The ‘it’ was a conversation she had had the misfortunate of having earlier that afternoon.
Zahra was supposed to be home at the moment. Most Saturdays she spent watching movies with her sexy bill splitter. They would eat Bhajias, while languidly scrolling through Netflix, spending way too long deciding on a movie, and eventually picking something they could make fun of. Or just making love. There was nothing more sensual than fucking on a hot Saturday afternoon. A good Saturday was about them, no obligations, no distractions, just the two of them. But instead of doing that, a mortifying conversation had taken, it had involved words like leather, whips and handcuffs. Every time she thought back on the conversation, she wanted to keel over and die.
Zahra had never thought of herself as a prude. Like most other Kenyans, she had been raised Christian, but unlike the older generation, she had also been raised by the internet and television. But what they didn’t tell you was that knowing about sexual kinks like BDSM, and actually hearing about it come from the mouth of a real live black Kenyan was a different ball game. Especially, a Kenyan, you lived with and loved.
She sighed to herself, boundaries had never been an issue in her relationship after all…
Her thought was interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. She turned around, and there she was. Nathalie, her other rock, her sister from another mother, her saviour.
Zahra nearly wept in relief, and with unusual unbridled zest, she called out to her best friend.
“Nat!”
Nat gave her a look.
She was a petite plump woman, with clear light skin, and red long braids tied high in a tight bun. Her face was lightly made up and she sported long tribal bead earrings, highlighting her brown eyes. She was wearing her favourite weekend outfit, a floral pompom dress. She was the embodiment of sweet summer, and she smelled like wildflowers.
“You look like you are taking a shit. What’s up? What’s the emergency? Your boss again?” Nat demanded, placing down her expensive-looking brown leather clutch.
Zahra shook her head pitifully.
For once it wasn’t the Neanderthal. Zahra worked for a children's book publisher, a company that overworked her, underappreciated her, and definitely underpaid her. But a job was a job and, in this economy, sometimes you took what you could get. She had a dream though and it hadn’t been killed by time yet. It lived in each action she took, every connection she made, and every shilling she earned. She was almost ready to leap into the dream. For now, at least, her work and her colleagues were all bearable.
It was her boss.
Mr Keith was an asshole incarnate. He was loud, obnoxious, crude, and a little too touchy. His only redeeming quality was that he was old, which meant he didn’t have long to live.
And judging by his frequent consumption of Tusker and Nyama choma, six feet under was coming sooner than later.
For once though, her issues had nothing to do with a man from work.
“Well…?” Nat prompted, staring at Zahra expectantly, waiting for her to get on with it.
Zahra rolled her eyes fondly.
Nat had a superpower. She got shit done faster-done anyone Nat knew. Nat was one of those rare specimens that didn’t procrastinate while Zahra's most used sentence was probably, “I will do it later.”
Zahra replied sarcastically, “And hello to you too, you know you…”, but Nat was already interrupting her. Nat motioned at the empty table in front of her, then looked up at Zahra with raised eyebrows.
“Where is my food?”
Zahra scoffed and took a sip of her mango juice before answering a little guiltily.
“I didn’t know what you wanted! And I can’t afford your palate.”
Nat carefully placed her perfectly manicured nails on the table, and glared at her friend, her pretty face scrunched up angrily. “You miserable liar. You know I always order the exact same thing.”
This was true. Oasis Café was their third most frequented café, and at this café, Nat always ordered a Panini and Mocha. Just like Zahra usually ordered juice, and if she was feeling like overpaying for an average pastry, a croissant.
Seeing that that situation needed saving, Zahra grinned at Nat and waved her hand.
“Fine. I forgot, ok. Let me call us a waiter, my queen.”
Nat tsked but nodded in reply.
There was a simplicity to their friendship that Zahra appreciated. In fact, sometimes she was convinced that she understood Nat more than her…
Oh right. Her fucking relationship dilemma.
“My relationship is on the rocks,” Zahra blurted miserably. The waiter, she hadn’t realized was standing there raised his impressively bushy eyebrows. He was a handsome looking young man, as black as he was tall.
Zahra ducked her head bashfully and studied her menu.
In front of her, Nat let out an incredulous breathy laugh. “Roasted beef Panini with a caramel mocha please.” Nat paused and chuckled before adding. “Do you guys have cocktails? Specifically, one called, Relationship on the Rocks?”
The thing about Nat was that sometimes she seemed like she was the whole package. Beautiful, smart, and rich. And rich rich, not the poor man’s rich. Nat came from a wealthy family. One of those elite Kenyan business families. Even after knowing each other for so long, the disparity of wealth between her and Nat fascinated her. But the real thing about Nat was that she was also an asshole.
The waiter laughed and Zahra had to look up. There was something absolute glorious about the booming vibrant noise. It was warm and comfortable.
She quickly looked at his name tag. Sam.
Sam grinned at Zahra and with a wink gave his recommendation. “No. I am afraid not. But I can get you some chocolate cake. Could heal your heart?”
Zahra considered it, and only because she already liked this Sam person. But spending money had nothing to do with nice strangers so she shook her head.
“I am on a budget. Get me another mango juice please.”
Sam smiled at her again, and nodded, before walking away.
“He’s nice,” Zahra commented casually, leaning back on her chair to stare at Sam’s retreating back.
“Bitch, I know what you are trying to do,” Nat scoffed with a smile. Then her smile slowly faded, and it was a replaced by a sad far-away look... “But yeah, he has a nice smile too.”
Zahra’s heart clenched painfully when she noticed that Nat was playing with her engagement ring. She never knew how to talk about the fiancé. It was a painful subject, a subject that had nearly broken their friendship on multiple occasions. But Zahra never relented, even now, when Nat had chosen to marry him.
“So…you and…” Zahra started nervously, but before she could finish her carefully constructed sentence, Nat was interrupting her again.
“Nope. This is about you. You. And your relationship. We focus on your mess first, then maybe mine.” Nat declared in her best no-nonsense tone. Zahra knew better than to argue, so she decided to cut straight to the point.
“Do you have any strange sexual fantasies?”
Zahra could almost see Nat clutching imaginary pearls, scandalized. She tried not to stare too long at Nat’s wide eyes. Laughter was bubbling dangerously close to the surface. But Zahra preserved, the conversation NEEDED to start like this.
“Kinks? Feet? Choking? Voyeurism?” And don’t act like we haven’t talked about sex before.” Zahra continued on impatiently.
Nat’s wide shocked eyes turned into thin slits of suspicion. “Why?”
“Just answer the damn question Nat.”
Nat rolled her eyes, and pulled a single braid from her high bun, and twirled it with her finger, gnawing her lip. She shrugged, “I don’t know. I haven’t had the opportunity to explore. My sex life is…not very adventurous?”
“Okay. So…have you ever…” Zahra paused feeling shy all of the sudden, she didn’t want to look at Nat because if she did, she would probably start giggling, “done any 50 shades stuff?”
When an answer didn’t come quick enough, Zahra finally braved a look at her best friend. As soon as they made eye contact, they started laughing. It was the loud uncontrollable laughter that was accompanied by wild hand movements, the laugh that didn’t care about people nearby. It was Zahra’s favourite laugh.
Eventually, they quieted down. Nat wiped her tears still chuckling, then she shook her head. “Okay okay! I am going to assume this is important. So, I am going to take this seriously. The answer is not really. We stick to the traditional sex. Good old vanilla sex.”
“You don’t sound at all excited,” Zahra replied half-jokingly. She was thinking about the sex in her relationship, it was always fun. Vanilla or not. Even thinking about it set wildfires in her belly.
Nat smacked the table and scowled at her with mock disgust. “Stop grinning like a pervert. I know who and what you are thinking about.”
Zahra crunched up her straw paper cover and threw it at her playfully. Nat caught the paper, and dropped it on the table, shaking her head.
“To be honest with you, sex with John is…okay. He doesn’t really go out of his way to make me feel good you know.” Nat confessed quietly and tilted her head back in frustration.
Suddenly a horrible thought occurred to Zahra and she leaned forward shyness forgotten. “Don’t tell me he is one of those. Don’t tell me he doesn’t go down on you.”
Nat leaned forward as well so that their heads were nearly touching in the middle of the table, looking like they were plotting some diabolic plan. Zahra looked at Nat, and her tragic face immediately answered Zahra’s question. Zahra gasped audibly.
“Nooooo.”
Nat nodded gravely mouth set. “Yeessss.”
Zahra shouldn’t have been as horrified as she was then. She hated John. She didn’t expect anything good from the overly controlling, jealous, emotionally abusive little shit. But this…
And maybe it was the expression on Zahra’s face because Nat started giggling. Then she leaned in a little and bumped her forehead with Zahra’s, before leaning backwards.
“Your expression though. If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you don’t like my fiancé,” Nat said teasingly, but the sad look didn’t leave her eyes.
It could happen to anyone. Zahra was regularly and painfully reminded of that when she thought about Nat and her fiancé. Sometimes it didn’t matter how intelligent, how beautiful, how independent you were. Sometimes like a fly, you got caught into a web, and the more you fought the more entangled with someone you became. Boundaries blurred. And before you knew it, you were saying I do to a man who made you miserable. Then you were having children, ushering them into the web that was slowly sucking the life out of you.
Zahra dilemma suddenly felt silly. She leaned over and grabbed Nat’s hand eying her sparkling ring.
“You know that I would sooner run John over with a truck before I hear the words, I do, come from your mouth, right?”
Nat retracted her hand and looked behind her, “the waiter is coming.”
“How the hell did you know that?” Zahra puzzled, watching as Sam strolled over. She wasn’t checking out per se, but he had a nice build.
Nat winked. And turned around to shoot Sam a sweet, innocent smile.
Sam flashed her a smile, placing down her plate with Panini, then her Mocha. “Roast beef Panini and caramel mocha, enjoy.”
He turned to Zahra with the same friendly smile, “Mango juice, and no chocolate cake?” he added teasingly.
Zahra scoffed, not sure if Sam was flirting with her or Nat. In front of her, Nat giggled, and Sam’s smile widened. Nat it was. She wondered if he had seen Nat’s engagement ring yet. She hoped not. She was already rooting for him.
Feeling uncharacteristically at ease with someone she had just met, Zahra shrugged.
“You know Sam. You can buy us cake if you want.”
Sam swayed pretending to be in deep thought, tray held under his arm. “I will think about it,” he concluded, with a nod, and excused himself at the beckon of another customer.
Zahra whistled with a laugh, impressed by the smoothness. “I like him.”
Nat hummed; her face turned to ogle the waiter’s ass. “I like his ass.”
Zahra turned and gave Nat an impressed look, laughing lightly. “We sound like horny cougars.”
Nat snickered and took a sip of her Mocha.
Ass. Zahra thought about the ass that was waiting for her at home. That was a nice ass. An ass that she loved very much.
“You know what I love about you Zar?” Nat asked gravely.
Zahra shrugged, and replied sarcastically trying to lighten up the sudden serious mood.
“Everything?”
“No, you imbecile. It’s the consistency, you silly bitch. I mean I can always tell whenever you are thinking about Neo. Idiot.”
Zahra had expected that her reply and sarcasm would earn her Nat’s contempt but she hadn’t expected such fiery insults. She put a hand on her heart dramatically.
Nat ignored her. “You get that stupid, ugly, constipated goofy lovey-dovey face when you think about Neo.”
Neo. The nickname had stuck after all this time.
“The One” according to Nat, Nat had started the nickname. At first, Zahra had fought it, scared of its implications, but now three years, she really liked it.
Still, Zahra shook her head. “Neo has a name you know. A birth name”
Nat shrugged, chewing her Panini contently, “I don’t care. It’s romantic. But, we digress, back to the topic.”
Oh right. The Topic...
“Anyway, so Neo.” Zahra started with a sigh, feeling the sweats recommence. Nat waited expectantly, staring at her as she chewed.
“Yes?? Neo wants a baby?”
Zahra yelped, “oh god no!”
Nat waved her on impatiently, “well then, spit it out! It’s probably not as bad as you think it is.”
Well, it wasn’t bad, it was just… “Neo wants to try bondage.”
It took half a second, and Nat was hollering, mocha running down her nose. Zahra was sure she would die. Her laugh, cough and wheezing blend in together to create a mocking musical.
When Nat had finally recovered, she nodded looking extremely proud. “It’s always the innocent-looking ones.”
Zahra gaped shocked at how cavalier Nat was acting. She repeated, “Didn’t you hear me? Bondage! With whips, and handcuffs, even some sexy leather outfit. The whole thing!!”
Nat grinned wickedly still not taking it seriously, “the whole 50 shades?” she asked snickering. Zahra nearly bashed her friend’s head on the table.
“Oh, don’t be like that Zar. It’s funny. And I don’t see what the issue is, if you are uncomfortable then say it. Converse.”
Zahra groaned, remembering the disastrous conversation and the words that had come out of her mouth.
“It’s too late! I lied. I said that I’ve also always wanted to try bondage. I even volunteered to buy a fucking GAG to make things more ‘exciting’!” Zahra wailed rudely mimicking herself.
“Why would you do that? How do you even know what a gag is?” Nat whispered behind her mouth-covered hand, shoulders shaking with laughter.
Zahra wanted to be mad, but she was also beginning to laugh. “Lynn told me about it once.”
Nat’s whole body was shaking now, ratting the table quietly... “Girl! How did this BDSM conversation even start?”
“We were talking about sexual fantasies and one thing led to another. Next thing I knew I was panicking, lying, and running out of the apartment.” Zahra recounted desperately. The entire morning was replaying in her mind, recreating each word, each expression she had made as she bluffed. Oh God. Zahra dropped her head on the table moaning desolately.
“Relax girl! This isn’t serious. I don’t think you will be crossing any lines if you tell her you lied and you aren’t actually comfortable.” Nat assured her, hand off her mouth, but mouth pressed in a thin line to suppress laughter from forcing its way out.
Head still kissing the table, Zahra mumbled something else.
“Stop talking to the table I can’t fucking hear you,” Nat mused.
Zahra lifted her head up slowly, mouth pouted, “what if…I don’t know. It’s not that I am uncomfortable…” Zahra paused and closed her eyes feeling all sorts of embarrassed.
“What if I am not good at it?”
Nat was no longer laughing, face now serious. “Hey.”
Zahra lifted up her head again and raised an eyebrow at Nat in response.
Nat pointed at Zahra’s untouched juice. “Drink your juice while I finally I tell you something important.”
Zahra sat waiting for Nat to begin but Nat stared back waiting. Zahra raised her shoulders in question, then she realized that Nat was not joking about the juice-drinking part. Zahra rolled her eyes dramatically but bent over to catch the straw with her teeth.
Nat rewarded Zahra with the Look. Zahra knew the Look. It was the ‘I am about to lay some wisdom on you’ look. It was the Look that usually preceded some deep shit.
“I am going to tell you a story Zahra. A short story about a black Kenyan princess, raised in a giant castle, surrounded by cars and riches. Okay?”
Zahra nodded slowly, sipping on her juice enraptured.
Nat continued, fingernails lightly drumming on the table.
“There was once a black beautiful princess. She lived in a kingdom called Nairobi. The princess thought she had it all. She lived in luxury, and her future was guaranteed. Then one day the princess met a village girl. The girl was a little loud, a little annoying, but the best friend that the princess had ever had. And the more the princess learned about the village girl, the more the princess realized that she was trapped.”
Nat took a breath and continued. “She spent so long trying to stay within the circle, in what she wanted, when she wanted, who she wanted, why she wanted, daring not to touch the edges. But the more time the Princess spent with the Village girl, the more she realized that the forbidden forest wasn’t bad. The forbidden forest represented choice and freedom. And no matter how many times she got lost, the village girl always chose freedom. Freedom was in choice, happiness and love. So, one day, the girl put down her crown and her luxuries, and joined the village girl in the forbidden forest.”
Nat paused again, her voice sounding raw with emotion. Zahra found her throat also closing up in emotion.
“Basically, you idiot. In your own stupid way, you’ve always shown me what it means to be free, and partly in how you love Neo. I can promise you that you’ve compromised on a lot of things but never Neo. And because of that, you’ve shown me that I’ve compromised on everything, especially on John.” Nat confessed openly crying.
She held her hand in front of her, looking at her ring. Her cage.
Nat slowly removed it and placed it on the table. “Love shouldn’t feel like this. Life shouldn’t feel like this. It should be nice. I want to panic about BDSM. Instead of dreading being around John.”
Zahra was looking at the table, staring at the ring wide-eyed.
“Are you…” Zahra started shakily, not daring to believe.
Nat nodded. “I know you and Neo, and others have been trying to get me out. But it was so hard. He could be so nice sometimes. And my family wanted it so much. But yeah, I wanted to tell you but then you called me about this ‘fake ass emergency.”
Zahra got up suddenly body vibrating with joy and pride. “I am going to hug you now.”
Nat groaned, sniffling, but she was smiling.
Zahra walked over, ignoring the curious glances, and wrapped her arms tightly around her friend. It wasn’t the best hug because she was sitting but it was worth it by the way Nat briefly clung to her arms.
After some time, Nat laughed tearfully. “I think the suitable time to hold this position has passed.”
Zahra chuckled and let go and actually felt a cramp, “Yeah my body is cramping. How do I feel so old? we are only in our early thirties. Fuck.”
They both started laughing.
A young petite pretty waitress coughed politely. “Are you done? Can I bring your bill?”
Zahra found herself disappointed that it wasn’t Sam. In her head, she could suddenly see it, the future. It involved Nat finding true love and it involved Sam.
Nat picked up her plate nonchalantly, obviously not sharing Zahra's sentiment. “Can you pack my Panini, please? And yes, the bill please.”
The waitress nodded, then smiled. “Oh, Sam had to rush, he was late for his class. But he bought a chocolate cake for you two, can I bring it over?”
Nat turned to look at Zahra with an impressed expression, Zahra returned the expression, equally won over.
Nat nodded at the waitress. “Yes. We would love the cake. Actually, box it up as well please.”
The waitress nodded and picked up their dishes. Then she leaned in, with a twinkle in her eye. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and placed a paper on the table casually before walking away.
They both stared at the neatly folded white paper. Zahra let out a giddy giggle, “is that his number!?”
Before Nat could reply, Zahra’s phone rang. The customized ringtone told them who it was.
“Uh-oh hurt bae is calling,” Nat announced cackling. She glanced down at the paper but didn’t move to pick it up.
Zahra nervously answered her phone, ignoring Nat’s smirk.
“Hey babe.”
Nat quietly watched the one-sided conversation mostly made up of Zahra nodding, and looking increasingly and increasingly embarrassed.
A little lost in thought, Nat looked at the table again, looking back and forth between her engagement ring and Sam’s paper.
She barely registered when Zahra finally hung up the phone looking so incredibly bashful that it was infectious.
“What did Neo say?” Nat demanded embarrassment she had no business feeling creeping up on her.
Zahra broke out into a sheepish grin. “basically, to stop being stupid, and come home for movie night.”
Nat closed her eyes and took let out a loud breath, a mixture of irritation, relief and envy.
“Once again, you are the idiot and Neo is the smart one.”
Zahra wanted to glower, but she was grinning too hard. “Time to go home and hopefully have sexy time with bae.”
Nat threw Zahra an appalled expression. “ew. Argh. And… you aren’t going home right away.”
Zahra's excitement turned to confusion. “I am not?”
Nat shook her head looking feverishly eager. It was creepy.
“Nope. You owe me. Tell your lover that you are going to be a little late.”
Zahra groaned loudly, then she glanced down at the table at the paper and ring.
“Are you leaving that behind?”
Nat wasn’t sure which one Zahra was referring to but she picked both of them up. The ring she threw into her bag, and the paper she neatly tucked into her bag pocket.
“Nah. Giving the ring back. It was never mine to accept anyway.”
By the time Zahra was standing in front of her apartment door, she felt like doing an exhausted little dance.
“Neo babe, open up, I am home,” she exclaimed cheerily, glancing down to reply to Nat’s message before pocketing her phone.
The door opened, light flowing out into the hallway. Neo gave her a disapproving look.
“I can always tell when you’ve hung around Nat, you start calling that stupid name.”
Zahra gazed at the woman in front of her who was leaning against the door frame, with her arms folded. Even in black sports shorts and a long loose-fitting shirt, her girlfriend had no business being so beautiful, Zahra found herself thinking for the millionth time.
Physically, Zahra knew she herself wasn’t anything particularly extraordinary. To some, she was pretty, with her tall athletic build, dark nearly flawless skin, bright smile, and short dreadlocks. And to others, she was another forgotten face in the swarm of tall, short, dark, light, Kenyans, Somalis, Indians, and others who now called Kenya their home.
But Nia. Nia who was a little darker than her, a little taller than her, now sporting Bantu knots was divine.
Zahra winked and marched closer to her girlfriend. “It’s not stupid, it’s actually very romantic.”
In reply, Nia grabbed Zahra’s face and pulled her into a soft kiss.
“What have I told you about running from conversations?” Nia whispered, a finger tracing Zahra's bottom lip.
Zahra didn’t open her eyes, waiting for another kiss. “You said I shouldn’t.”
Nia chuckled and leaned again, placing another soft kiss on Zahra's upper lip. “I guess I should thank my honorary girlfriend Nat for you being calmer?”
Zahra shrugged, finally opening her eyes and looking into Neo's dark brown eyes. “Don’t act like you didn’t call Paul the moment I left. Also, I have a story about Nat.”
Nia raised an eyebrow curiously, “Is she okay?”
Zahra nodded lazily, eyes closing again, then she tilted her head up expectantly.
“Yes, it’s a very good story. But kiss me again.”
Nia planted three successive kisses on Zahra's soft mouth. They weren’t usually too comfortable with public PDA because not everyone was okay with same-sex loving, but Nia couldn’t find it in herself to care right then. But also…
Nia pulled them inside after another few seconds not wanting to tempt some sadistic turn of events. In pulling them inside, she heard something rattle and saw that Zahra was holding a large white paper bag.
“What’s that?” Nia asked pointing at the bag, leaning away from Zahra chasing lips.
Zahra made a displeased noise and brushed past her to enter the apartment. She dropped the bag on the sofa casually and glided back towards Nia. Zahra's voice had dropped an octave, giving off a sultry timber.
“You want to find out later on tonight?”
Nia bit her lip, finding herself more and more intrigued, and even more so when Zahra wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled them chest to chest.
“Why then, why not now?” Nia challenged leaning forward. Zahra chuckled and closed in.
Nia took Zahra's lip suckling on it quickly before kissing her upper one, the corner of Zahra’s lip; taking her time to memorize her taste, her feel, and her breath.
“I love it when you kiss me like that,” Zahra said without meaning to.
“I know,” Nia replied.
“And I love you,” Zahra added with a sappy grin.
“I know,” Nia said again, her eyes tracing the grin. She broke into a beatific smile.
Zahra could see it, a kiss was going to follow, then making out, then wild wild fun sex, then a movie.
Zahra waited. But Nia didn’t kiss her. She just continued to hold her face in place, giving her a careful affectionate look.
“You should marry me,” Nia announced after brief consideration.
Zahra gaped speechless. She stuttered and stuttered again, then landed on something irrelevant. “But marriage is not legal in Kenya. And I thought you didn’t want to get married because our parents are still iffy about us.”
To that, Nia just shrugged. “I don’t care. And I don’t care. What do you say?”
Zahra squawked incredulously, the gravity of what was happening starting to sink in slowly. She tried to stay afloat with humour.
“But I wanted roses and fireworks and a flash mob for my proposal, like in the YouTube videos,” Zahra whined playfully.
Nia tilted up Zahra’s face up with a finger, and bit her chin annoyed. “We don’t have to get married if you don’t want to. Just like you don’t have to do bondage stuff if you don’t want. I will love you regardless silly woman.”
Without meaning to, she remembered Nat’s story about the princess and the village Girl. And about the freedom to love.
She finally really truly understood what the story had been about. The story had been about how being with someone you truly loved could make everything seem less scary. Platonic love or not.
And Zahra didn’t know anyone else who made her feel as brave as Nia, had been making her brave since the first she had seen her three years back at a boring book fair.
So naturally, as the stories usually go, the village girl smiled. “I bought leather, whips and handcuffs today. For you, for us. Of course, I will marry you! Yes. I would like to share bills with you forever!”
In response, Nia kissed her again, and again and again and again.
Comments