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Put on yur head rag! Ah don't wanna you goin' 'round lookin' lak that.
Wut is this? It's horrible!!!
Wut's yur problem? Taste' fin to meh.
The bed was no longer a daisy-field for her and Joe to play in. It was a place where she went and laid down when she was sleepy and tired.
She found out that one day when he slapped her face in the kitchen. It happened over one of those dinners that chasten all women sometimes.
Janie was a good cook, and Joe had looked forward to his dinner as a refuge from the other things. So when the bread didn't rise, and the fish wasn't quite down at the bone, and the rice was scorched he slapped Janie until she had a ringing sound in her ears and told her about her brains before he stalked on back to the store.
She stood there until something fell off the shelf inside her. Then she went inside to see what it was it was her image of Jody tumbled down and shattered.
In a way she turned her back upon the image where it lay and looked further. She had no more blossomy openings dusting pollen over her man, neither any glistening young fruit where the petals used to be.
She bathed and put on a fresh dress ansd head kerchief and went on to the store before Jody had time to send for her. That was a bow to the outside of things.
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