Like Reeds in Summer
by Gio Clairval
Does my family name matter? I gave it up when I joined Ceres Edelman's house to become her willing slave, one of many men in her service.
I was sworn to testify in my own words, and my deposition only recounts what I witnessed. Forgive my awkward ways. I was never videotaped before.
I was born in a land by the sea, where the myrtle and the rockrose grow. A poet taught me my letters, though later on the words were lost, smothered by time and the mindless toiling. Until I met her. I was a simple worker in one of the Starbank Inc. factories when I came under the influence of the woman who stands accused today.
As a C-class employee, my job was to cut tiny screws with a lathe. Whether the width of the screw pitch was this or that, I didn't know. Someone else plunked numbers into the pad, and I simply threw away the defective screws.
I saw her for the first time when she took the position of Head of Personnel and interviewed the staff. By meeting the factory workers, she was testing their submissiveness. She picked her slaves that way.
I knew nothing of this. When she called me to her office, my heart stopped for a second or two. Mine was a protected job, given my physical disability, though I could have been reported by the foreman for a fault I hadn't noticed. I dragged myself up to the executives' floor, and each step sent twinges of pain up my twisted legs. My feet were constricted in special shoes, and these orthotic devices only added pain to my deformity.