Hungry Tuesday

It was darker and smelled a little musty on the south side of the market stalls, despite the drizzle of raindrops that leaked from the canvas tenting. Zin picked her way across the wet cobbles and runnels of mud to the apple seller. The fruit that wasn't wormy was hard, and the old woman's muttered under her breath, counting each fruit that Zin touched. It felt wrong to be on the 'dirty' side of the market, instead of strolling down pathways sprinkled with sawdust and sand, looking over ribbons and glassware and fresh oranges, as Zin always used to do. It felt humiliating and shameful. Especially when her younger sister was honeymooning with silken sheets and rose-petal baths and moonlight suppers in crystal dishes. Zin's only consolation on the dirty side of the market was that no one she knew should see her here, bargaining over sour apples and wrinkled potatoes.

A wet splat struck Zin on the shoulder. She spun, startled, and the second tomato caught her on the cheekbone.

A russet-haired woman stood just inside the tenting on the far side of the stalls, tears and smeared makeup making trails down her sallow face. "I'll kill you, Zin! You whoremonger! You thieving bitch!" she shrieked, and started down the maze of crooked stalls, throwing anything she could reach, her frenzy leaving as much damage in her wake as before her.

"I didn't do anything wrong, Milla!" Zin yelled, ducking a barrage of potatoes. She groped for apples to throw. The old woman's wooden cane smashed Zin's fingers. "Not til you paid for it! Thief! Thief!"

Zin turned and ran, slipping on the wet cobbles, seeking the safest exit, or even a place to hide. Milla's hysterical shrieks rose in pitch and volume, and soon complete strangers were throwing things, fighting amongst themselves, or trying to steal anything they could. Bruised, battered, breathless, Zin ducked around a stack of wooden kegs and sagged to the ground.

A slim, leather-gauntleted hand snaked out of the shadows and seized Zin's arm, pulling her off balance. "They'll find you here. Come this way."

"Let me go!" Zin struggled, kicking and writhing against the hidden stranger. She glimpsed a flash of pale skin against the darkness, felt leather skid under her flailing hands and feet. The woman pulled her farther into the uncanny pool of darkness. Taking a desperate gamble, Zin let herself fall to the ground limply. As Zin's assailant shifted her grasp and started to crouch down to pick Zin up, Zin kicked her off balance and wrenched her arm free. Panting, Zin burst into the chaos of the markeplace again, cradling her chafed wrist.

"There she is!"a farmer in the next aisle yelled, pointing. Heads turned her way. The crowd surged.

The strange woman pulled her back into the darkness, and Zin sucked in a gasp as the world shifted and her lungs filled with the scent of honeysuckle and roses.