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Woman Who Reads
They say she came from a family of moderate means. Sickness
caught her in infancy when she stopped listening to the birds and
her family cooing. Her scribe father translated for nobility.
Instead of investing in cattle for marriage, they taught her to read
and write many languages–better than most men. Perhaps they
thought this would ensure her survival and let people see what they
saw, that she wasn’t dumb. But after her parents died, she still
ended up here like the rest of us. That’s what they say anyway.
She practices her Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin—stick in
sand. Sometimes, she tries to teach us, but we lack her smarts
They say she came from a family of moderate means. Sickness
caught her in infancy when she stopped listening to the birds and
her family cooing. Her scribe father translated for nobility.
Instead of investing in cattle for marriage, they taught her to read
and write many languages–better than most men. Perhaps they
thought this would ensure her survival and let people see what they
saw, that she wasn’t dumb. But after her parents died, she still
ended up here like the rest of us. That’s what they say anyway.
She practices her Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin—stick in
sand. Sometimes, she tries to teach us, but we lack her smarts
Fighter
They warn; don’t tick her off if you value your life. Red firey
locks. Her major muscles upon muscles are stronger than most
men. Easily provoked but not easily subdued. Strikes or spits on
those who stare, smirking, saying something smug, smuggled
softly or sharply. Glad she stays on our side, as long as she’s not
mad at us. They say she had her baby taken from her, deemed
unfit in her condition. Was she too weak after labor to fight back?
I wonder if her strength came from being a mother or just from
being a woman. I bet it broke her when they ripped her baby away
right after she gave birth. I wonder if the father even knew to care;
if they even let her hold the baby.
They warn; don’t tick her off if you value your life. Red firey
locks. Her major muscles upon muscles are stronger than most
men. Easily provoked but not easily subdued. Strikes or spits on
those who stare, smirking, saying something smug, smuggled
softly or sharply. Glad she stays on our side, as long as she’s not
mad at us. They say she had her baby taken from her, deemed
unfit in her condition. Was she too weak after labor to fight back?
I wonder if her strength came from being a mother or just from
being a woman. I bet it broke her when they ripped her baby away
right after she gave birth. I wonder if the father even knew to care;
if they even let her hold the baby.
Sadness
Many despise him, even among our flock. His father was a tax
collector, a traitor to his people—trading their sparse savings for
pounding poverty. Some assume his mother was of Roman birth
by his sharp nose and chiseled chin, despising him even more--
never glancing his direction. But I say, he did not choose his
parents. A grandpa in a 7-year-old boy’s body. Came soon after
Happiness did. They’re still inseparable. His short, dirt greying
tunic is more or less intact, on the verge of becoming nothingness.
Sadness may be small and meek with his peppery hair and beard,
but is as sharp as any street merchant. Happiness carries him on
his shoulders but respects him like an older brother. Sickly,
Sadness was always the first of us to lay ill and the last of us to
recover. We presume this was why he was left here and are
amazed that he still is alive. I think he could live anywhere, but I
guess his family, his people (whoever they were or are), disagreed.
Many despise him, even among our flock. His father was a tax
collector, a traitor to his people—trading their sparse savings for
pounding poverty. Some assume his mother was of Roman birth
by his sharp nose and chiseled chin, despising him even more--
never glancing his direction. But I say, he did not choose his
parents. A grandpa in a 7-year-old boy’s body. Came soon after
Happiness did. They’re still inseparable. His short, dirt greying
tunic is more or less intact, on the verge of becoming nothingness.
Sadness may be small and meek with his peppery hair and beard,
but is as sharp as any street merchant. Happiness carries him on
his shoulders but respects him like an older brother. Sickly,
Sadness was always the first of us to lay ill and the last of us to
recover. We presume this was why he was left here and are
amazed that he still is alive. I think he could live anywhere, but I
guess his family, his people (whoever they were or are), disagreed.
--
e placed first in KoreanAmericanStory's 2021 Virtual ROAR Story Slam. She found success as a blogger for a spinal cord injury non-profit, called Backbones, and her "Gimpy Law" blog's global readership reached 1,550 yearly views on disability issues and promoting disability awareness. e is a recovering social justice attorney wannabe with a disability affecting her speech and mobility, but not her spirit.
e placed first in KoreanAmericanStory's 2021 Virtual ROAR Story Slam. She found success as a blogger for a spinal cord injury non-profit, called Backbones, and her "Gimpy Law" blog's global readership reached 1,550 yearly views on disability issues and promoting disability awareness. e is a recovering social justice attorney wannabe with a disability affecting her speech and mobility, but not her spirit.