Tune of Time

Tune of Time

Mairi Henderson

A seemingly innocent photo of a young woman in the night. Pirouetted on heels and balancing a smile, her long dark hair acting as a veil to the foreboding pack. A moment of rational ignorance, why should she suspect? Why should she interpret? Why should her smile furrow in to her youth slick face because allowances were made and the worst was not yet coined? 
This is why. 
Engraved in the shadows of our egalitarian society, is tragedy. A woman walks, but does not go anywhere. She carrys but does not surmount. She speaks, shouts and screams but is always muted with dismissal and hollow conclusions. 
Like a criminal, it lurks in the dark away from plain sight. Like an animal, it preys on the vulnerable. Like a beast, it revels in its power. 
Go ahead, hold down your mothers, your sister and aunties. Hold down your cousins and grandmothers. Hold them all down till their spirits whimper. 
The scene will not stop playing, can someone please change the record?

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