Theirs to Claim
I know most of the farmers, but I put my head down and avert my eyes for the rest of the way.
My job is situated just before the market. A large white-washed mansion with neatly manicured lawns and a handful of servants to tend it. Inside lives a man I scarcely saw but heard he was a general that worked in one of the armies outside the town, his wife whose face was an eerie white from thick layers of powder that cracks around her dark eyes and blood-red lips, and three children; Mark, Matthew, Mildred. All manipulative children tortured, degraded, and humiliated their servants.
Fortunately, I work in the pigsty and our paths scarcely crossed.
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