Sunday, August 12, 2012
Dorine knew that the celebration was in her honor. People were coming from out of state, perhaps a few from the north country. A large tent covered the cleanest part of the yard, upwind of the barn but not too far up the hill. People always worried about how difficult traversing spaces might be for her. Certainly she had new limitations, but not as daunting as careful souls expected them to be. Others would be celebrating her freedom tonight. They celebrated to show support. Dorine would celebrate with them, but not because of freedom. She would celebrate their enslavement that she had engineered by simply looking frail.