Then he said, leaning forward: ‘You’re strange animals, you women intellectuals. Tell me: what’s it like to be a woman?’
I took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him dead.
‘It’s like that,’ I said.
Then he said, leaning forward: ‘You’re strange animals, you women intellectuals. Tell me: what’s it like to be a woman?’
I took my rifle from behind my chair and shot him dead.
‘It’s like that,’ I said.
Joanna Russ, On Strike Against God (via nervefood)
Here was the dead dog that she’d described, lying on the sidewalk as though asleep, but that it lacked half its head.
Our woods need the night to make them seem what they ought to be—what they once were, before our ancestors’ descendants demanded so much more money, in these so much more various days.
Our woods need the night to make them seem what they ought to be—what they once were, before our ancestors’ descendants demanded so much more money, in these so much more various days.
To both the right and left of the place I was buried, there were so many buried babies that they jostled against one another, some were breathing, some weren’t, some had struggled partway out of the sand and then dried up, some had managed to escape all the way out of the sand and crawl away.
Hiromi Itō
To both the right and left of the place I was buried, there were so many buried babies that they jostled against one another, some were breathing, some weren’t, some had struggled partway out of the sand and then dried up, some had managed to escape all the way out of the sand and crawl away.
“I am Anjyuhimeko” by
Hiromi Itō
I didn’t want her to answer any more questions. I like it when people tell me the truth, but it always makes me feel bad, too. I tried to say I was sorry, but I couldn’t even open my mouth.
I didn’t want her to answer any more questions. I like it when people tell me the truth, but it always makes me feel bad, too. I tried to say I was sorry, but I couldn’t even open my mouth.