Servitude

She rolled over onto her side, the sand sticking to her feet. The sun beat down on her, warming her skin. The sound of the ocean soothed her tired mind. After weeks of pushing herself to the edge, she now had time to relax and be herself. No more rushing to do his bidding. No more cringing at the sharp words when she was not fast enough or had not done something correctly. Enough thinking about that; she pushed the thought away. This time was about her. Still, he could call her back at any time. A small frown wrinkled her brow as her gaze fell on the phone on the blanket next to her. No, she wouldn’t think about that. It was still her day to do as she liked.

Small children played in the waves that rushed in to touch the shore, their families in close attendance.  Sometimes she wished for a child of her own, but a child would not fit in his home. It made her heart ache to know this, but she had accepted this life for herself. Her doings had sewn the fabric of her past, and placed her where she was today. Children would not be for her. Not in this lifetime.

Slowly, the sun began to set. She sat up, brushing the sand from her feet and ankles. She began gathering her things, placing them into the large bag she had brought with her, setting aside the clothes she would don over her suit after she packed. She stood up, pulling on the pants. The shirt was next. Soft and flowing, it was the most luxurious thing she owned. It felt good against her skin.  She pulled her shoes on, and folded the blanket, placing it last into the bag. Walking up the beach, she began her return trip to his home. Back to her life of servitude. If she could go back and change the past… but it was silly to think such thoughts. One couldn’t change the past.

She was only an indentured sevant, indentured to pay for her crimes.