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Like father like son. Does the saying hold true also, then, if phrased as, “Like mother, like daughter”?
What is the impelling force when a girl’s mother is a whore? Does she rebel as the preacher’s son proverbially does?
This book explores the generation of a family that begins with a whore. Perhaps the truths uncovered here are unpalatable. But true art reflects life. And unpalatable or not, recognition of life is necessary to us all.
Damn, Renee thought to herself, I don’t want to do it, hut I have to. It’s time the girl learned to go places by herself. I can’t have her holding onto me all her life.
Her daughter Idrine, was an ageless looking youth, with long cascading black hair, dancing brown eyes, a pair of red apple cheeks, and a smile that lit up the world. Idrine was a little chubby, but that was baby fat soon to melt away. She had budding breasts smaller than hen’s eggs which bounced excitingly under her blouse. Renee knew she would shortly have to buy her daughter a bra.
It wasn’t as if Renee was sending Idrine to the far corners of the earth. There wasn’t even a need for the girl to take a bus. It was just a walk through the park to her grandmother’s. Still, Renee remembered what had happened to herself in that same park once and knew that sending Renee was an act of rebellion against her own fear.
Remembering so, she had given Idrine the riding crop.
“Listen,” Renee said, “if a man tries anything, hit him with the riding crop as hard as you can and then run. He should be so surprised you’ll be out of the park before he can think a dirty word.”
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.