Look at her a face illuminated by street lamps, by passing cars she watches, she waits the expression on her face is one of… nothingness.
Look at her dark circles under her eyes, a bruise on her cheek hidden by her hair the look in her eyes is one of… emptiness.
Look at her what did he do? what do you do? while she’s beaten and broken one woman, one of many, living in… hopelessness.
Society sleepwalks, liberals shake their heads say wise but empty words, while behind closed doors this never ends.
A woman is killed every three hours in South Africa, according to police statistics – a rate five times the world average. Half are murdered by men with whom they had a close relationship.
Written in response toSadje’sWhat Do You See #56photo prompt. Image credit: Phmaxiestevez @ Pixabay (The image shows a young woman looking out the glass pane of a partially open door, with an indecipherable expression).
She’s put out the snacks and brought his beer, chilled, in his special glass (one of them). More beers are in the fridge; she has a pie ready to warm for half-time – steak and kidney – his preferred.
Pre-match build up: pundits pontificate; re-runs, highlights, triumphs and near misses. There is success and then there is shame. Which will it be today? National Pride is at stake, for this is the World Cup.
As she sits, small and submissive on the far end of the couch, she plays a different commentary in her head. Missed penalties, own goals, bad decisions by the ref. The repercussions: cuts and bruises (hers); failure on the field reflected in domestic disappointment.
Predictions are favourable. The odds of a positive outcome are weighed in favour. She weighs up her own odds: win or draw 20 per cent, lose 50 per cent (the chances of a beating).
You look down at her, slumped on the kitchen floor, the basket of other people’s ironing she’s just finished strewn across the polished quarry tiles. Her head lolls awkwardly against the range where she’s fallen. After you lost your rag and pushed her, but you pushed too hard this time.