Before Tea Time

She had stolen mother’s lipstick. Her crimson gash of a mouth was stretched in a satisfied smirk. Her dirty bitten finger-nailed hands opened and closed slightly as she held D. My treasure. My hope. My friend.

I asked her to let her go.
First, I asked her softly. Tears hidden. Lips rubbery.
Second, I asked her mockingly. Hands behind my back. Flawless syntax.
Third, I asked her forcefully. Cheeks cherry with rage. Feet shuffling.

She only laughed.

I rushed at her and it was over suddenly. That bubble gum face disappearing down the stairs. The surprisingly tepid thump as she hit the bottom. Those clutching hands, broken, lifeless under a twisted back.

I looked at Dolly. Dolly looked at me. A wave of love and compassion stole over me. Poor dear had her hair all plastered to her head. Time for some tidying up.doll

© Melisande Moonsong

This is a quick piece of flash fiction I wrote for the ‘Ad Hoc Fiction Competition‘. Don’t really expect to win anything, but it was fun to do.

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Today I can vote…

Today I can own property. I have the right to decide whom to marry. I have the right to work and earn an income. I have the right to go to school. I have the right to take my own decisions. I have the right to be heard and to make a difference.

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It was not always like this.

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I wish to thanks all those women without whom this would not be possible. All those women whose struggles throughout the years have made it possible for me to be here, in my comfortable office, writing on my pc, earning a good wage, after having attended university, and looking forward to buying my own house soon.

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I would also like to send all my thoughts and love to all those women in other countries, in other cultures, who are still fighting their own struggle. Still being persecuted. Still living a nightmare. Just because of their gender.

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Yesterday was Women’s International Day.

If you don’t know why it is so important, please read my article published here, and think again http://www.eve.com.mt/2015/03/08/8th-march-international-womens-day-why-all-the-hatred/

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