Imprisonment

Proserpina

The next day, the woman came in with the food. She was, I realized, a few years older than me but dirty and wearing torn clothes, stained with ...some reddish colours that I did not want to think about.

This time, her eyelids fluttered as she sent me a quick glance. I was sitting on the bed, my hand on my stomach.

It was a quick look, and she lowered her pale green eyes, but I had seen a flash of pity in them. She had the same clothes that she had worn the previous day and on an impulse, I looked at the man who stood in the doorway. He had his rifle cocked and easy, and he was yawning, scratching his scruffy face as he watched us.

”Clothes,’ I said, loudly, my eyes on her, ’Please, clothes.’

She hesitated, and the man entered the room with a snarl.

He hit her across the head with the back of his meaty hand, and I stepped back in horror. The woman let out a yelp. Dragging her arm, he jerked her out and slammed the door shut.

I sat, trembling, for a long while. The open ex