“Will you take me back home?” We were blocks away from his car and I made it obvious I lacked motivation to converse. I wanted to be alone and peaceful.We made our way back through crosswalks and cars halting at our right of way. He walked a few steps behind me giving the solitary woman her liberating space.
We shuffled back to the apartment complex I saw a woman carrying in bags of groceries in one hand and a babe or two in the other. Her husband watching mediocre at the window smoking a cigar.
I didn’t understand this, don’t think I ever will. No recognition of the duty in myself the way a wife lived in service for her husband, the way my mother had done for my father. Raise the children he had placed into her, neglecting to do other than be a role of command.
S.M. Bjarnson
