Week 7 Story
A Handmaiden's Horror The metallic crash of dishes hits the floor, the carefully adorned delicacies proven to now be mere formalities to the authentic intentions of my evening. The smell of sandalwood is everywhere and the world is moving so quickly that it is quite difficult to grasp what it is that has happened. My heart races. My body cold, chest heaving for breath. I stand backed against large, wooden double doors; the locked and final barrier that prevents me from escaping to freedom and away from my perpetrator. I am afraid, my hands behind my back cannot find the lock or knob. Kichaka and Draupadi https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Raja_Ravi_Varma ,_Keechaka_and_Sairandhri,_1890.jpg The lust of Kichaka rages in his un-seeing eyes. He is angry. Everything he has ever wanted, his every desire and whim granted. All but her. Who is this lowly slave girl to think that her virtue should be spared? The monstr...