This is where the television flickers with infrequent words. Guerilla women soldiers were gathered silent until DISMEMBERMENT appears with not so much all the letters involved but mostly pictures. And when the unsilencing occurs who is to say what will happen next? Roxy cannot fathom this as she stares: her own bloody stump still drips occasionally from her left elbow and it was totally the own camped men did that. Bandana’d.
In terms of regrouping etc. there NEEDS to be a tribunal of some sort. The men are being neutered in the back room but it is soundproofed with eggbox shells thank god.
This is where rabbit feet is food is life is not for the faint. Of heart and limbs detached. ‘Let us wait!’ Roxy cries in vain while shouts increase and spit flies through the air. This uproar is THE sustenance and she knows not to sabotage it now. These are cracked whore broken women now almost mended ready for violence.
For nights and nights and some days the tent outside swells. HEAVING mite-sized energy balls sourced from abjection or other such places.
No television for this order. We meet dismemberment with saws and TEETH.