August 31, 2015

A woman once told me, that the way I cut my tomatoes will make my future husband boil with fury, hit me and quite possibly leave me as well!


Then she laughed as if it was a good joke.


I told her I will leave such a husband immediately. That I will not stand for such treatment.


And they all laughed as if it was a good joke. I was only a teenager, they said, and that life will change me. They told me I’d grow up, and I’d be horrified of aloneness and that just like them, I will endure the same way they do, the basterds they call their husbands.


And now I cut my tomatoes bigger and add that navel where the tomato once hung upon; perhaps it will repel all men that think a woman’s worth can be measured by how well she cuts a tomato.

And I am growing up, and I love aloneness, and I am nothing like those women that adhere still to the pigs of men they call their husbands.

And I am damn proud of myself!



Note: an expounded version of this post can be found onStoryzetu

Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

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