33
OSCULUM INFAME
Allicion Valpolichella trudged through the valley, rubbing her handstogether briskly, hoping for warmth and receiving none. The light upahead meant home, but home meant headaches for her. The earthcolors had come and gone. It was late in the year, and sun warmthwas still a season away.She was more tired than she had ever felt before in her life. Shehad grown accustomed to the daily fatigue- with five children, she’dhad no choice- but that didn’t mean that her body didn’t need the restthat her life was depriving it of, daily. The reasons for her fatiguewere many- but none of them was likely to change anytime soon. Themoon had traveled beyond her sight and into the mountains; she knewthat sunrise would come soon.Her day would begin again in a few hours, and she would nothave slept any more than a few hours, and that time would be spentdozing on the floor of her hut while the children stepped on heroutstretched arms and legs and tumbled over her body. Thecircumstances of her sleeplessness would vary, but she had a feelingthat there was something larger at work in her life, and she suspectedthat this something larger meant to do her harm.Once the men had wanted her. And while they still did, shethought that the focus had shifted less from her beauty more towardsher sexual usefulness. She didn’t like the way that the men handledher children, but the men were a necessary evil for a woman in herposition. It was difficult to provide for five children without sluttingherself out to this man or that.As the men slept- and they would always sleep, afterward- thecoins at the bottom of their pinch-bags would find their way into thehole that she had dug into the ground, underneath the stones in thecorner of her room. She was always careful to sprinkle the oddhandful of dust over the stones to preserve their authenticity, and shewas always quiet in doing it.There were questions on occasion, of course, and a possiblebeating in store for her or her children- but a bruised eye was betterthan an empty belly, as her mama had always said, and everyone’stears would dry.They liked the way she cried, they said, as they did what theydid.They liked the way she howled.And to tell the truth, she sometimes enjoyed it as well, but thatwas more her doing than theirs. She knew how to take care of a man-how to position her legs, where to lick their necks- to bring about theirmess. The combination that she used on herself was more mental
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