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Occupation by Eliza Griswold The prostitutes in Kabul tap their feetbeneath their faded burkas in the heat. For bread or fifteen cents, they'll take a man to bed- their husbands dead, their seven kids unfed- and thanks to occupation, rents have risen twentyfold, their chickens, pots, and carpets have been sold and women's flesh now worth its weight in tin. Two years ago, the Talibs favored boys and left the girls alone. A woman then was worth her weight in stone. |