I blew a kiss from my bedroom window, giving no thought to where it might land.
It touched the cheek of a pretty girl, marked it red as blood.
Her father saw her sullied, and beat her for indulging her desire. The neighbours saw her dirtied, and spun their whispers throughout the town. An easy girl, a slattern, not worth the spit that landed at her feet.
She made her bed, they said. She chooses where she lies.
And I? Heard nothing, saw nothing, never even thought of her after that day. It was, after all, just a throwaway kiss.
1 comment… add one
This version is more effective at communicating a clear message, and the dark atmosphere is done well. I hesitate to say I like it, because it’s disturbing reading, particularly as this attitude persists so strongly in the real world, but it tugs at the emotions and triggers thoughts, which is what good writing should do.