She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.I am important to her. She comes and goes.Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.I... me, she has drowned a young girl, and in me, an old womanRises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish."Mirror" By Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)"Where am I? It is so dark! Why is it so dark? And, that voice! Mon Dieu! Who is that, that voice ... so harsh, so ugly, so full of hate! Wait, I know that voice, oh no!"Christine shuffled carefully. Master." She glanced at me, a tiny teasing smile on her face. "Should I call you master? Since I'm your slave?" Master will do fine," I replied with a smile. Untying her wrists and arms, I pulled the robe back over her arms and dropped it on the chair. Then, stepping back in front of Anna, now completely naked except for her little house slippers, I tied the rope around one wrist, leaving a few inches slack, and around the other wrist. This left her wrists bound together in front but. More

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