The Master's Child
About mid-morning, another guard, gun in hand, joins the first, unlocks the cell block and a dozen or so figures, all female, trudge out.
Sunlight glints on the metal cuffs at ankle and wrist. All the women are young and attractive, or would be, cleaned up and in decent clothes. As it is, black, white and every shade in between, they're all in rags...
The women walk a couple of weary circles around the compound, shielding their eyes against the sun. One of the guards barks something at them and they stand to queue by the stand-pipe, taking turns to run water into the buckets, splash it over their faces and arms.
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