And after some weeks, as the days began to grow longer, and the nights, warm and dry, they began to complain. And they began to curse the one who had rescued them and brought them out of captivity. Why did you bring us out of that place? they said. Would you had left us there. We would have been better off. We would have had meat to eat and wine to drink. We would have had perfumes to smell and oils to bathe with. We would have washed another’s dirty linen and kissed the dust from his sandals. We would have borne whiplash upon whiplash in mute surrender. We would have given love, and received none in return. We would have made lesions on our chests, cut open our ribs and brought forth our hearts, torn and bleeding. We would have placed these at their feet. To preserve in formaldehyde, or be kicked into a corner in irritation. We would have cut off our hair and wiped their feet with it. We would have torn the clothes off our backs and laid them out for them to walk on. Take us back, for that is where we want to be.