She was pale that morning. Her customer too demanding, she felt like banging on his face. But he insisted and soon got his way.
She had to cater to his every whim and demand. It started with his usual massage, graduating slowly to the caressing and finally culminating into the act of two bodies being rolled into one.
She lay limp as he explored her thorough and through. Won't he ever call it quits? She wondered.
She was cursed indeed, to be born beautiful. Cascading, loosely left hair, large, kohl lined eyes, with that awesome figure to match, she was every man's dream.
Only, she was caught up in this hell hole. Miserable existence.
He rolled over, satisfied. She lay looking up at the ceiling, eyes brimming with tears. What kind of life was hers? Mocked by everyone, shunned by her neighbors...she didn't really have a name of her own. Everyone called her that infamous word.
Her fingers raced across her face to wipe away the tears. She felt the cold touch of metal and looked at the ring on her finger.
Another large drop of tear fell unawares from her eye. Her mind went back to him. Her lover. How happy were those memories! Months spent dreaming up their cosy future.
He promised to wed her and took advantage of her. He fled one day with her money and jewellery. She was empty, heartbroken left with nothing.
One thing led to another and soon her business grew. She hated it but had to fill her growling tummy one way or the other.
She tried to sleep. Sleep wouldn't come. Suddenly she heard an uproar outside. Loud banging on the door. Shocked, she clutched her clothes and opened.
There was a group of some men outside, screaming, their words incomprehensible to her. She recognized them. They belonged to a certain religious sect. A few barged in, pulled the man off the bed, slapped her across her face and shoved her onto the street.
Soon a crowd gathered. It swelled in no time. Stones were picked up by the wayside. Abuses hurled on the culprit.
"Halt," a voice spoke in the background.
Their hands frozen in midair, they watched as this young, lanky man walked into their midst.
He looked around, scanning their faces. His deep, penetrating gaze could burn them aflame. His demeanor so arresting, his voice so commanding..they dared not whisper.
He looked at the trembling woman. Her face buried in her palms, sobbing her heart out.
"What has she done," he wanted to know.
"We caught her in the act. She must be stoned to death. The law states that." They scanned his face for tell tale signs of anger, or even a hasty word that would give him away.
He spoke nothing. He knelt on the ground and grabbing a twig lying nearby, began writing something into the dust. The crowd watched, suspense killing them.
After what seemed an eternity, he stood up.
"Whoever has never sinned can throw the first stone."
Pin drop silence. The hands came down, stones fell onto the ground...thud..thud..thud. The men hung their heads and slowly left one by one.
Leaving only him with her.
He walked up to her. "Did any one condemn you?"
"No," she replied.
"Neither do I. Go and sin no more."
She looked up, disbelief writ large across her tear stained face.
He nodded reassuredly at her, as she bent to touch his feet.
She wiped her face.
She would never be the same.
She had just met God.
