Brendan FallsChapter 23
We were waiting for our Master, turned out in our finest clothes in the best tradition of the Old South. It was autumn, but after an especially long hot summer the slight chill was a welcome relief and we bore it comfortably. I was one month from my eighteenth birthday, or a little more perhaps. Slaves didn't observe birthdays generally and I felt little anticipation for the event, my interest was firmly on the here and now and I was playing my happy role as lady of the manor one last...