It was late in the evening of the first millennium. The gods were all sleepy, having drunk enormous amounts of wine and eaten large meals. Little God, a small, immature god who had not yet learned to behave himself, and who was not yet allowed to drink, being less than eighteen million years old, found the entire thing so booorrrring he decided to play a joke.
Read More“Well-behaved women seldom make history.”
Today I was picking berries,
Pink, ripe, juicy berries
Just the kind you like.
I was picking berries for you
While you hunted the mammoth.
Every head turned when he walked into the room. He was tall, handsome, and dressed to kill. The tight jeans, the muscle shirt, the swagger, all spoke of someone who knew what he wanted, and had no problem getting it. Right now, what he wanted was a girl. He moved through the crowd of women gathered in small groups, looking each of them over, nodding approvingly when he saw one he found delectable, until finally his eyes lit on Jeanette.
Read MoreRegina paled as Al’s voice boomed through the wall, humiliating her in front of some unknown other. She cringed as she imagined his hands creeping up her dress, trying to get a feel of what he termed “forbidden fruit”. She had asked not to be seated next to him anymore at corporate meetings, but it was no use. The seating chart was determined by the structure of the hierarchy, and the higher ups had decreed who would sit where by job title. She had put all her dresses in the back of the closet, and started wearing pants, so at least he couldn’t find much except cloth for his searching fingers.
Read More“I ate plenty”, she assured him. She had eaten plenty. Nothing was plenty for her, because anything else would put on too many pounds, and then she wouldn’t be attractive to him any more. And work, she thought. Ten pounds…that’s what this food would add, ten pounds. Then how would I be able to model the clothes properly for all those rich ladies who want to think this dress or that one will make them look thin?
Read MoreFifteen years – no, eighteen, ever since that horrible day in her twelfth year when she found the first red spot on her otherwise spotless underwear. Trembling in the bathroom, staring at the spot, noticing with horror the growing pool of blood dripping from her most private regions, streaking down her leg while she huddled in the stall, her pants around her ankles, her day shattered. Renae felt a rush of warmth for the scared girl, uninstructed in the ways of women, sure she had contracted some horrifying disease and was dying. She whispered a small word of comfort as though it could somehow reach back through the years and touch the child, relieving her fear and her pain with knowledge gained through the exhilarating, frightening, and often tedious process of growing up.
Read MoreIf supporting women is an extremist position – and, according to most of the pundits out there right now, it is, in almost all issues except the right of women to clean house and have babies – then I proudly confess that I am an extremist.
Read MoreI saw a play today oh boy
It had a woman in a starring role.
Tonight I feel…weird.
Hated and adored.
Petted and pummeled.
Confused? Most certainly confused.
“Smile. You make the world an uglier place when you don’t have a smile on your pretty little face.”
The customer snarled “What business is it of yours whether I smile? I’ll smile when I damn well please, and not a moment before!”
The cashier gathered up the items dropped on the counter, pretending not to notice the fury in his customer’s voice. He rang up the items, and accepted payment, but couldn’t resist a parting shot as his customer left the store.
Read More I want to live bold.
I want to live large.
I want to leave a large hole when I am gone.
Simone wandered through the apartment, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe and matching slippers. She carried a pair of yellow heels that seemed to be twice as high as the pair discarded on the floor. Meghan could see through an open door to the bedroom, where a bright yellow dress was draped over the bed, a party dress, just waiting for Simone to slip it over her head. The shadow pushed Meghan forward
Read MoreLinda noticed there were only three more presents under the tree. One of them had her name on it, but the other two were for Pete. The tea set was buried deep underneath a pile of fluffy sweaters, ribbons, and skirts. Her mother set the biggest box on her lap with care, urging her not to break anything.
Read MoreThe blankness of the paper mocked her, called her every name in the book, and still she could find nothing to say. What kind of assignment is that, she thought. Why would any teacher give such an assignment? Write about being a woman. Great. What did she know about being a woman? It was just…well, it just was. It wasn’t something she did, or thought about. She just woke up every morning as a woman. So what did it mean to be a woman?
Read MoreThis is a strange phenomenon I’ve encountered in many places. Men often perceive women as dominating professions almost as soon as the first woman arrives. It’s like somehow each woman expands in their mind into three women, or more. Whatever the numbers demonstrate, the men know different, because they’ve seen it. The women are there, there are more of them than men, and they are now taking over the workplace. Why is this? What is going on in men’s minds that makes them perceive women to be so overrepresented in the workplace, when numbers show they are there in much smaller numbers than the men?
Read MoreMrs. Smith shrieked, and thrust past me toward the small playroom. She shoved open the door just in time to get a face full of flying penguin. The battle was in full throttle, and the room writhed with the energetic bodies of four- and five-year-old combatants. Right now, the penguins were ahead, and I cheered them on silently, rooting for the girls to beat the boys just once in this endless battle. Rufus was being thoroughly thrashed with a penguin when his mother rushed toward the little brat and scooped him out of the fray, her glare in my direction intended to intimidate. It didn’t. I simply didn’t care any longer.
Read MoreThe symbol puzzled her. She turned it over, but it made no more sense upside down. What was this strange thing, and why was it here? A circle, a cross. The circle on top of the cross…unless the cross went on top of the circle…what did it mean? It was plastered all over the walls. A big sculpture of the same symbol dominated the room. It was like an optical illusion, and now the woman behind the big desk had handed her one, told her to take it with her as she joined the group.
Read MoreAn emergency room at the Family Hospital in Outer Ring City, Terpis. Late evening of the first night of the Holy Festival of the Fish Lord. An examining table, some scary shiny instruments, and a desk shaped vaguely like a salmon, the sort of salmon that might be created by Salvador Dali (the greatest surrealist trout of all Terpis).
Read MoreGuilt washed over me, her words striking at the very core of my being. Silenced her…she couldn’t have used any harsher words. The voice of a woman, a strong woman trapped inside the body of a 100-year-old doll, and I was silencing her. I kept her from speaking in the past, pushed her backwards, even put her in the closet once or twice to prevent her from embarrassing me by speaking too boldly. I bowed my head to her, mute acknowledgement that it was time.
Read MoreProve it. Prove it again. Prove it one more time. Pics or it didn’t happen. Right. Because men take videos of themselves sleazing all over young women, or because all young women come with built in body cameras to register the unwanted attentions of men who don’t recognize limits. What? They don’t have body cameras? That must mean they wanted it, because if they didn’t, why wouldn’t they want to establish proof that the male world was as sleazy and dangerous as they claim on #MeToo?
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