Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: work song - hozier
✵────────[ ✵ ]────────✵
The dim light of the room cast long shadows, giving the space an ethereal quality. The woman, with a painter's grace, dabbed her brush on the canvas, each stroke a whispered secret.
"Up close, we see only individual blobs of separated color, but from a distance, our eyes weave them together, creating the same effect as traditionally mixed pigments," she mused. Her voice was a smoky whisper, as if the words themselves were wisps of mist. She paused, taking a long, deliberate drag from her cigarette. The ember glowed like a distant star, a fleeting beacon in the dimness. With languid grace, she placed the cigarette back in the ashtray, a thin ribbon of smoke spiralling upwards, vanishing into the shadows. Her gaze shifted to the woman watching her, eyes sharp and intent. "People must understand that the world isn't what they've always believed. It's a mosaic of invisible forces and objects, shaping and controlling our existence. That's the purpose of your march, isn't it? To make men realize that women control everything they thought they had built."
Jessie Eden, seated in the chair opposite, leaned forward, her eyes alight with a fierce mixture of determination and defiance. "Exactly. It's time they see the power we hold, the influence we wield from the shadows. It's time they recognize the true artists behind the canvas of society."
"And when they finally see the whole picture, they'll realize it's been women all along, blending the colors of their world." Marianna's gaze drifted to the window, the rain tracing delicate patterns on the glass, a silent symphony of nature. "How was the march, Jessie?"
"It was a sight to behold, Marianna. Hundreds of women, marching with purpose and defiance. Polly Grey was in rare form, standing on the back of that old waggon, her voice ringing out over the crowd like a clarion call." Jessie Eden's eyes sparkled with the fire of recent memories. She leaned back in her chair, a small smile playing on her lips.
Marianna's laughter filled the room, a rich, melodic sound that seemed to chase away the shadows.
"Polly Grey? Giving speeches off the back of a waggon?" She shook her head, a knowing smile on her lips. "I can only imagine the threats she must've hurled. And we both know, Polly Grey doesn't make empty threats."
Jessie nodded, her smile fading as she recalled the intensity of the day. "She was fierce, Marianna. Her words cut through the air, each one a promise of change. She warned them, those men in power, that we won't be silenced. That our voices will be heard, no matter the cost."
