Stealing my wind : A six-sentence story

Mhy / Pixabay

Here is a little take on feminism.

Stealing my wind

College-going Tammy slammed the kitchen door shut and raced over to her mother, Lisa, who was busy peeling carrots over the kitchen sink. “Mum, feminist culture class was a hoot today. We read a book by E.W. Johnson, which taught us not to let anyone steal our wind. From now on, I am not letting anyone give me pressure.”

“Dear,” said Lisa, putting her chopper down and clapping her hands, “I’m so proud of you for being a voice for women all over the world.”

Just then, Tammy’s hefty older brother, stuck his head in the kitchen, shouting “Tammy, it’s time to drive me over to that football game now.”

“Yes sir,” Tammy followed him out of the door meekly.

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