Life Of A Lust Toy

The winds carried a chill which was quite uncharacteristic for the October air, which perhaps would have been casually overlooked by her had it been just the only thing off about that Monday evening. The puffs of dust that temporarily rose into the air before vanishing into nothingness were the only signs of movement on the road besides her brisk, anxious walk. She took care so as to not huff and puff as she wriggled through the back alleys of the place, eyes transfixed on the road lest she should catch the eye of the revered opposite sex and invite the lust of the mankind (not that it needed any invitation). The set up was tailor made and the signs were ominous but being the optimist she was she spurned the thought and trudged on through the wearing pathways of a land little known for appreciating womanhood, better known for insulting it(blatantly), through a land wherein being born a woman is like being cast with a curse of the ugliest kind; one can fight it but one can never win, it was a land wherein the men of the highest order had failed to protect their daughters, wives and mothers from the filth of the purest breed, men of that country were the scions of glory but left behind a lousy legacy.  So every evening when she got out of the confines of her house to buy a cabbage flower from the farmer or to fetch a packet of nuts from the grocer or even to pick up the newspaper from her front yard (for which she had to bend over, mind you); she raged a brave battle, a battle she seldom won; but being the warrior she was, she fought on.

She was the wife; the woman who is the bearer, the lover and the progeny bundled into one, woman that commanded respect, reverence and worship. But on foot he came, the filth, that is, harboring intentions of the dubious kind. She knew well, that the filth had feet (3 of them) and it walked with aplomb but such was the might, she could not flee. But it did not end there; he carried an entourage, and they came in a bus, fifty of them, in the bus she was laden with the cabbage and the packet of nuts, when it was all done and dusted and everyone was hot and weary and the bus was far, along came a police car. She thought it was over but then everyone went to the police station and the game was played over on either side of the bars, and then came the politician, enraged at what had gone around, snatched the woman from their clutches and into his; he took her to his cabin under the watchful eyes of the police, laid her on the table and had his way. As she was on the table, a shade of deep, dark red; she begged God to kill her daughter while she was still sleeping in her bed.