in the sty

Her bed was a mat made of tightly-wound straw; a mud-splattered pigsty was all the girl saw. She lived in the sty by her stepmother's choice with no human contact with no right to voice her daydreams and passions and all she'd been taught by pig ant and horsefly (of which there were lots). She'd wait for the swine to eat their daily fill of watered-down muesli and other such swill then scraped at the corners of their wooden trough – it kept her alive but was barely enough. Her clothes became tattered and worn through and through while her young half-sister got threads bright and new, was dressed in fine silken and shimmering robes and got tiny diamonds put in her earlobes. The sty-bound first daughter was ugly, you see, by her deceased mother's genetic decree, whom father had knocked up when he was a teen with salt in his currents and rage in his spleen. The newer addition was beautiful though with raven-like hair and skin as white as snow; her older blood-sibling would twitch shake then seize and splay her webbed toe-joints whenever she sneezed. The outcast grew slowly, her muscles were weak, although with her beasts she soon enough could speak, could see by each habit and movement and walk more than most mere humans convey when they talk. Her kindness was massive her compassion too her spirit and mercy they blossomed and grew, she then started praying (to whom she knew not), was thankful for her pitiful meager lot. A Goddess did hear her, sleek silent Oumbast, did send out a pussy to visit at last, its soft furry body did warm comfort feed the sty-bound first daughter in her time of need. On mouse rodent bunny the girl then grew strong and fled from the confines she had known so long, and became a healer of animals all, of horse cow and donkey of beast great and small. Her sister however was naught but a pest, swore at her own parents and tore every dress, then fled with a sailor to his foetid shore and lived in the manner of a spoiled whore.

© americanifesto / 場黑麥