The Life of an Insect

I herd of a story once about a girl and a lion, the lion was a prince who would turn into a dove if the light were to touch him. They married and when time passed light touched him and had to live as a dove for seven years. Every year the dove would leave a white feather so that his love would know to wait for him. A day came when she lost her dove and asked the sun, wind, and moon for help. They informed her of a prince who had gotten lost in an island with an enchanted dragon that was really a princess. The story goes that she fought the dragon and ran away with her prince and was forever happy.  I know it’s a fairytale because the lion was a prince. How could a lion be a prince? I used to ask myself this but never came up with an answer. After sixteen years I have proven that a lion can’t in fact be a prince. A lion is a selfish beast who feeds off of the poor, the one with cold hard eyes that undress you; the one with the manicured paws and not blistered hands. As a child I wished a prince would come for me every night, but now a lion is who I have to be with. He waits till everyone leaves, silently and expectantly. Tonight it is no different, I see he is preparing for his feast by the opened whiskey he has on his desk. I see the look in his eye as if he is choosing what his prey’s punishment will be tonight. I am the last one.  I gather my tools and clear my work space, slowly. He’s growing impatient; I hear the tapping of his foot. I can’t delay this any longer. I walk towards his office, he leaves the window from where he has been observing and comes to meet me at his door. I make no attempt at a greeting, after a long day I don’t care for unnecessary chat, I know what he wants. He grabs my hips roughly and begins working my lips with his whiskey tasting tongue. I make no move, the sooner he gets tired the better.  There are no tears there are no protest. No virtue or honor to keep, I have sacrificed them to keep my job. I have learned to close out the loud grunts, the pain, and his roaming hands.