Wife of the Above

And so her maiden voyage ended. With her thighs tensed and her stomach pulled flat, her hair knotted in his dirty fist and damp from his sweat. A maid and a Mrs, with blood and semen sticky on her thigh and a tear in the corner of her eye.

More tears, more blood, more semen. And more children. His and hers. She would never pull her stomach flat again.

Doted, dotted and done. The nest was empty in a blink, the Mr gone in another. She was back where she began. No blood, no semen, no tears. Her body dried and dried, until she was a wisp and a husk and a cold wind caught her.