The men dance. Some throw their arms around each other, making tight heaving circles, their heads almost touching, their legs shuffling, the circles moving around and around, a black and white kaleidoscope. Others weave a snaking line through the spaces in between: man after man, his damp waist cupped by the warm hands of another, beneath his own palms the softness of the next man’s belly. At the head, an elfin man with a wild beard and curling side-locks takes loping steps, lifts his eyes heavenwards, and yells his prayers directly to the Almighty.
The sweat drips from their faces, pooling on the parquetry floor. A man slips, the smooth soles of his shoes sliding awkwardly, and is hoisted back into step by the men on either side, the circle continuing without pause, around and around, faster and faster, until the men become a blur, a pulsing entity in a frenzy of worship…
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