The Glass Arrow

We are strong and proud and beautiful and there are not enough stars in the night sky to measure our worth. I will honor my mother and take care of my family. Yes, I think. I am just a woman.

My ma taught me one thing from the beginning: My body is mine. My own. No one else’s. Just because somebody thinks they have rights to it, doesn’t make it true. I thought I understood that before, but here, in this place, it’s become more clear than ever how right she was. My flesh and blood–it’s the only thing I own, and I’ll defend it until I can’t fight anymore.

They've forgotten, or maybe they've never learning, that their worth is not determined by how much a man wants them.

I'd rather be a wolf than a girl any day.

There are bigger things in life than being chosen.

And I feel it happen--silent and study as a feather, a piece of my soul becomes his.

The Garden trapped me like an animal. The Governess sold me like livestock at an auction. And the mayor and his family would have made me their whore. I am shaking with rage.

But,” I say, wetting my lips, “but if trust was a thing you could hold in your hand, I would give mine to you. I’d let you have it forever and never ask for it back.

I feel a strange sensation brewing inside of me. It tickles my throat and forces my lips into a grin. Before I can stifle it, I giggle. And then I laugh.

Behind us are two or three dozen country people from the outlying towns. With them are cages of chicken and goats, sheep, even cattle. That’s where we fit on market day. Between the executions and the livestock sales.

That's where we fit on market day. Between the executions and the livestock sales.

I’d rather be a wolf than a girl any day.

and soft as a feather, a piece of my soul becomes his.