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As the general run of madhouses go ... the trench conversion was a doozy. Only in a state of confusion like the one Wendy appeared in, could her appearance create so little fuss.

The sergeant said, "Shuffle your feet, and get out of the way."

So ... that's what she did. She climbed out of the diggings and walked away. If she hadn't been soaking wet and immediately covered in dust turned to mud, more men would have noticed her. Just walking to the embankment she was transformed into a mud ball.

Once free of the dust cloud, she sat down to explore her options. She was far from depression but close to panic. Sitting at the side of the hauley road she looked so confused that a trucker stopped and gave her a lift. They didn't talk much. Although she had money, the driver gave her 100 francs.

Well away from the confusion of the excavations, he dropped her at the Chambres d'Hôtes Vivrah or guest house in the village of Hazebrouck. The Chambres was a private home in distress. The sons were dead in the trenches, the husband? Unknown.

Not that she didn't know the father of her children ... he had gone to the city and never returned; a common occurrence in the recent war.

The lady of the house sent Wendy to the stable where the daughter of the Hôtes hosed Wendy down to partly clean clothes and washed away the worst of the mud.

"Ah, there Is a girl under all that mud," the daughter exclaimed.

"All my life," said Wendy.

And in the way of girls everywhere, they laughed a little, cried a little and became friends.

Judged clean enough for the house, the pair returned to the house. A steaming copper and enameled hip bath was sitting on the white kitchen tile. Wendy stripped, and luxuriated in the hot water.

While she soaked, her fire suit was washed, her shoes, gloves and balaclava cleaned as well as could be expected; the mud of French Flanders is particularly greasy ... all that soaked-in blood.

Toweled dry, and robed, Wendy drained the hip-bath and saw the hook in the vestibule. She hung up the tub and put her head out the kitchen door.

"Well, you came out pretty," Maman said. "I wasn't sure what was under all that mud. Come sit."

The daughter, Eloise, stepped in with, "How did you come to be so... ?"

"Muddy?" said Wendy.

Eloise nodded.

"I was at the trench," Wendy said.

"It's dry there," Maman said, with a squint and a hint of raised eyebrow. Girls of a certain type went to the trench. It paid well.

Jeeze, Wendy thought. How do I get out of this? "It is? I mean, it is." Shit! The mom look! "Look, I don't know. I just showed up. A sergeant sent me away."

"Ah," said the maman. "Fell into bad company, did you? The sergeant saw your quality and sent you away, did he?" She turned to Eloise, "See what happens when you keep company with that kind of girl?"

Her best friends were 'that' kind of girl.

"Yes, Maman," she said, blushing. But all those virile men, those muscles and smooth chests. They make me wet in my nether parts. Bah! Maman has been talking to the grocer again. But he's old... 35 at least. Respectable! No sense of adventure or fun. I will not have it! She stamped a pretty foot. But not hard ... maman would notice.

"Has there been any news of the Rally?" Wendy asked. Not to change the subject.

"Oh yes!" exclaimed Eloise, "A girl driver was killed."

"Yes?" said Wendy.

"Not really," Eloise said.

Maman said, "They haven't found her body. The gendarmes say the water police must drain the canal between the locks so that her body may be found. Such disruption.

"Her father is an important man. The Roads Bureau has already started eliminating those dangerous corners. So many accidents when it rains."

"Just the other day," Eloise was halted by a look, "Yes Maman, three weeks ago a girl from school had to be rescued when her gentleman drove off the road on that very same corner. But not like this foreigner ... they say the foreigner was driving 80 kilometers an hour when it started to rain. An old Volvo they say. Foreign cars ... not safe like French."

A ding. DING

"Your clothes are dry. I've never seen the like," Maman said. "Audi, they say."

"May I use your telephone?" Wendy said, "I must call home, my parents will be worried."

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Same as Again?
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Constantine rises at their entrance, also eager to see his commander's pet. The commander bows and pulls the chain, making the woman stumble to her knees in supplication. "Oh, Caesar, it is my honor to bring you a gift of the finest quality." "What have you here, commander?" "A captured treasure from a conquered province, Emperor. Her skills are rumored to be surpassed by none." "Rumored?" "She is untouched by your legion, your highness." The emperor raises his...

It had been too long It had to happen

100% fiction! I was well into my eigth year on a fifteen year prison sentence for robbery when the unthinkable happened. Either my mother or my sister would come stay a couple days on in the prison sponsored conjugal visit program, designed to help hold families together. On this one particular visit my sister came up with her daughter and the visit proceeded to go about as they normally do. She would update me on the latest news while I helped her unpack the food bags. She would then head into...

Incest

ScarredChapter 6

Lying there on my side, I watched the woman I have got to know in this short time. Thinking about how much I loved her. Did she feel the same way about me? Pushing the strand of hair away from her face, I gave her a light kiss on her lips. Her lip curled up at the ends into a smile, as she curled up into my arms. She slowly opened her eyes. “I have a confession to make,” she whispered in my ear. With a lump in my throat, I said, “what?” Putting her mouth to my ear, she whispered, “I love...

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