10 July 1849

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ahh Victorian oppression. A super-short story about a woman's place all those many years ago. Let's be thankful it's not like this anymore.

Submitted: July 15, 2009

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Submitted: July 15, 2009



“Sir!” I said, completely astonished. “How dare you say something of that nature to me?” I looked at him, my mouth gaping open.

“My lady,” said he, “if you are a lady, which I find hard to believe, you should be seen, not heard. As you are, we can’t bear to look at you for what we hear.”

“I assure you, if I am no lady then you sir are no gentleman. I am sorry for my ability to think, but I find it repulsive that a woman should do naught but cling to the arm of her husband, thoughtless and frail with no intelligence of her own.” My blood boiled and I stared in contempt back at him, hoping that if I glared hard enough I may bore holes through his stupid head.

“Do your parents know that you speak so?” He met my gaze with sharp blue eyes.

“My parents, you limpet, encourage my speaking in such a way.”

“Did you just call me a limpet?”

I stood up straight, stretching my spine, inflating my lungs as much as they would behind my corset.

“Yes I did. I find it a more suitable title than gentleman for a man of your nature.” I raised my eyebrows and with a huff said, “good day, sir,” and walked away.

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