Understanding
"You have lost your mind."
"No, it makes perfect sense."
"It was far too harsh for such a small thing. You have lost your mind."
"Yes, it was harsh, but he told me why. It makes perfect sense."
"He feared you would run away or learn to avoid him. That is why he told you.
You have lost your mind."
"He told me because he chose to, not from any weak fear of a slave girl. It
makes perfect sense."
One would think I was with a close friend having this conversation, but the war
of words raged only in my head. Several nights ago I allowed myself to feel too
relaxed and intruded, although innocently, in the conversation of free people.
Even when they expressed some surprise, not responding to my question, a short
time later I spoke again. For that I was stripped of my silks, short chained and
kenneled. I can say this rather matter-of-factly today. Two days ago I could not
even speak until evening from the impact this had on me. I could not write
except in a most primitive way. I couldn't think of anything except that I would
not make the same mistake again.
I am terrified of being kenneled since that time in the village.
Before he spoke to me about why I was punished so harshly, I had actually
thought to never speak again ... not ever, not to anyone. Foolish girl thoughts.
I understand why it was done. He did not have to tell me. I would simply have
had to accept that it was done. But, you see, in providing the explanation, he
dissolved the foolish girl thoughts and the natural instinct of a barbarian to
withdraw.
Instead, the desire to be more pleasing to him, to look more beautiful, to
respond in a more heightened fashion ... to be fascinating, if that is possible
... burns hot inside me.
I told him of my dream - the one I have almost every night. I'll write of the
dream another time. His sandals will be cleaned and the leather strapping buffed
before he rises this morning.
"You have lost your mind."
"Shut up."