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Words that are written. Some are mine, some are not. Some hold meaning, most do not
So, this is a starter that came to me while I was reading the book Body Surfing:

~ Yakkal stands on the Auction Stage before the Centurion crowd of buyers. He was recently captured in a raid on his home village, and he knows he'll never see the place again. It took eight months for the line of slaves to be brought into the capital, Rome. During the forced march, Yakkal saw dozens of people he'd grown up with fall and be left behind...dead. His parents, sisters, and best friend are now among the dead. He's lost a lot of weight, and his ragged tunic clearly fit him much better before. He trembles as he stands on the Stage, eyes focused on the beetle trundling across his toes.
He desperately hopes that he'll get a good master. Someone who won't abuse him horribly. He had been told that a man would surely buy him. It's no secret that wealthy men view women as breeding grounds, it's other men they take their love to. Yakkal doesn't want to lead that sort of life! He's only twelve! Or perhaps thirteen...he never bothered to try to count his summers. It was never something he really cared
about.





 
 
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