When she sought redemption it was there waiting for her to try on like a soft leather glove that’s been worn in by hands that smack faces and assess for a living, handed down by Mistresses and Masters for decades. There hasn’t been a time that those hands were idle. In fact they had not, and had been, waiting for her, they were conflicted, but they were ready. Time is funny like that; it’s unforgiving and waits for no one.
When that slap finally came, it felt like she was frozen in time. She could see it coming, she could feel the sting, but she never imagined that with redemption would come freedom; it just never crossed her mind.
Where does she go from here she wondered. Ignorance is not always bliss, and though you don’t want to know, once you know, can you ever turn back? Is there a way to lye in bed at night and pretend that you didn’t want to be free?
No, she said out loud, thank you Ma’am may I have another?
© Sam Martino
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