“The Virtuous Woman” — A Short Story, P2

Click here to read the previous installment.

The villain begged the gardener to free herself. He constantly gave her ideas. Sometimes he made her lists of ways to dirty her soul. One such list is as follows, written on a day when he was particularly salty:

Ways to sin without even leaving your chair

  1. Lie about the color of your hair.
  2. Yell at someone passing by the window.
  3. Be mad you can’t leave.
  4. Be obsessed with something you can’t have.
  5. Look at yourself in the mirror for 10 seconds.
  6. Refuse to write me back . . . because you refuse to admit I’m right.

But it was of no use. She couldn’t dare lie; her conscience would hurt her so, she knew that. Hardly anyone ever passed by the window, and those that did were friends she loved dearly. She didn’t mind her quiet life; it was hardly anything to make a fuss over. She wanted nothing more than the happiness of others. She didn’t own a mirror. And she knew he was wrong, but would write him back anyway because that was the kind thing to do.

Sinning was so against her nature, she could hardly even fathom committing the crime.

So, instead, she would write the villain back and ask him to come clean. She replied to this particular list with a lovely list on how to cleanse his soul.

Dear Love, Your Soul Needs a Proper Bath

  1. Compliment someone on the color of their hair.
  2. Wish the person outside your window a lovely day, and offer to carry their groceries for them.
  3. Accept that I can’t leave.
  4. Give up something you love that someone else may need.
  5. Look instead for the goodness inside of you.
  6. Write me back and tell me I’m right.

But it was of no use. The villain was so thoroughly blackened that even if he tried to tell his Aunt Penny her hair was the loveliest shade of blonde he’d ever seen, it would come out as “Your hair looks awful, we can all tell you dyed it long ago, and isn’t it due for another dying, I can see your roots, is that a bit of gray I see?” So many people passed by the window that hated him because of his reputation; they’d run screaming at the idea of him carrying their groceries. He thoroughly minded that the love of his life couldn’t leave her abode because she was just so good. He wanted nothing more than his own happiness. No matter how many times he looked in the mirror, he just saw darkness; there was no light within him (no trowel on earth could dig it up). And all he could do was write her back and tell her he loved her, but she was wrong.

Sinning was so in his nature, he could hardly even fathom not committing a crime.

Stay tuned for Part 3!

Published by Amanda Brown

INFP who names inanimate objects, loves to laugh, and is a proud old soul. You can often find her planning out her next crazy project, hugging books, or telling stories about her day that *may* be a little exaggerated.

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