Another Governess / The Least Blacksmith: A Diptych by Joanna Ruocco Read Free Book Online

nipple. It has a pigskin tube. I pick up the bottle. It has deposits in its narrow neck. The rubber nipple is cracked and hard. It is clogged with deposits. It smells. There is no milk in the bottle. Where is the milk? I ask. Where is the milk? There must be milk in the kitchen. There is milk in the moat. From the high window, I see milk in the moat. The moat is gray with the milk. The cook throws bad milk in the moat. She throws brown apples. She throws white scraps, the white scraps the Master cuts from the meat. The white things that crawl from the meat. The green slime that she carves from the meat. The blisters of meat. I see the blisters of meat on the moat. There are white flies on the blisters. There are black flies on the blisters. The moat is buzzing with flies. Things have died below the flies on the moat. They bump the flies from the below. The flies ripple up and down on the moat, the skin of flies on the moat. I could walk across the moat, on the thick skin of the moat. I could walk to the orchard. In the orchard, the Master lifted her dress. He pulled the skirt over her head, he covered her head. He covered the mess of her head. Her long pale hairs had blackened with fluids. He hid her hairs with the dress. He hid her face with the dress. He stroked her face through the thin cloth of the dress. Above, he stroked. Below, he jerked. The Master's dogs came around. The Master's dogs came around the Master. The Master jerked. The Master put his knees on the apples. He had a stick. He hit the dogs with his stick. The dogs whined. They climbed on the Master. They pressed against the Master. They pressed the Master in the apples. The dogs jerked against the Master. They jerked against the jerking back and legs of the Master. He swung his stick. He hit the dogs. They whined. The Master whined. Poor little dogs. The Master rolled over. He held the dogs. He held the dogs with his knees, with his elbows and knees. With his hands, he pulled the ears of his dogs. He stroked the heads of the dogs. Poor little dogs. They dripped blood from their mouths. They put their mouths on the Master's neck, on the Master's mouth. The Master opened his mouth. The dogs put their mouths on his mouth. They put their mouths on his chin and his mouth. The Master's mouth dripped with the blood from the dogs. She wiggled out of her dress. She uncovered her hair, her face. She crawled through the apples. She tried to climb the black boughs of the tree. She dragged a rope. The Master knelt beneath the tree. She stood on his shoulder. She hooked her leg around the branch. The Master pushed her fat bottom. She clung to the branch. I pushed her fat bottom. She dragged a rope. I gave her the farmer's rope. She knotted the rope on the bough. She swung down. She dangled.

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    The woodcutter had a daughter. The woodcutter's daughter was big like the woodcutter. Her arms were big. Her legs were big. Everyone said what a big girl the woodcutter's daughter, a very big girl. If only the woodcutter's daughter were a son, the son would go into the forest with his father. He would help his father cut the wood. The woodcutter's daughter did not go to the forest. She went to the town. She did the washing in town while the woodcutter cut wood in the forest. The woodcutter's daughter sat on a stool and did the washing. Water ran down the legs of the stool. The woodcutter's daughter wore a dress. The dress became dark. The woodcutter's daughter lifted her hands from the tub. Water ran down her arms. Water ran down her legs. Water ran down the legs of the stool. Water pooled around the tub. The woodcutter's daughter bent over on the stool. She gave birth to a son. The son was big. He lay in the tub with the washing and the crown of his head touched one side of the tub and the heels of his feet touched the other. He was a big son. The woodcutter's daughter took the son home, but the woodcutter did not come home. He did not come home from the forest. The