By Anarita Botelho
She sat behind the plastic tarp, beyond his piercing stare. Her back felt cold, yet she wore a heavy robe.
He’d just finished raping her. She didn’t care. Rappella was used to it, how it hurt every time. When he continued his thrusts, she would swing to that warm beach where she grew up.
Rappella loved the sea breeze, and the echo of waves made her smile. Rappella’s imagination won again. No pain, no sweat, no bad breath, no undeserved pregnancy could ever beat the sweetness of the coconut oil on her tongue. Rappella’s back turned warm. She hugged her knees.
This is a precious description of survival of awful brutality. Thank you, Anarita.
A good study in how the human mind can shut out brutality. Nice job!
Thank you very much that was the intention. 🙂