A Crying Shame

Post

Peasants were so ugly.

Their faces were red and blotchy. Scars tripped down their cheeks like disgraced soldiers. Every day was a losing battle for them. But, not so for Anaka - the only child of the king.

Anaka was the happiest girl in the land. She couldn't do whatever she wished, and every moment was decided for her, in straight, orderly lines. The nation had high expectations of her, but it was nothing to cry about. The higher their expectations, the further away she would be from the low life peasants.

Nobody expected anything of peasants, yet they cried over every little thing. Anything could break them, and not even the threat of being disfigured could dissuade them. Not so for Anaka - the only child of the king.

Her face, porcelain smooth, was a treasure of the nation, and treasures had to be locked away, safe and hidden. She didn’t mind it. Her room, high up in a tower, had a beautiful view.

On a lazy afternoon, Anaka leaned into the warm breeze and watched the palace gardens move in slow motion. The trees swayed so gently, and the heat melted the usual staccato of the palace officials. Her window was not big enough for her to climb out of, but it was fun to watch the officials move around the courtyards like little ants.

A commotion was going on in the Weeping Gardens - ceremony. The queen, her mother, she reminded herself, was in the last stages of labor. Her agonized groans surged from within her canopy of willows and echoed along the stone walls. It was as much a test for her as it was for the almost born princess.

The baby was drawn out into the light. Anaka leaned against the stone, willing it to cry. A single wail would be enough. The quiet, beautiful baby giggled. The garden cheered. Anaka clenched her hand on the windowsill. She did not want a sister. In time, this one would be disposed of as well. There were so many ways to make a child weep. A crying shame, but it had to be done.

---

Published December 21, 2020

Edited by Neisha Hussain