Young girl

Since her mother died life had been plagued by a series of mishaps and lesser catastrophes. Not that she didn’t enjoy preparing the food for her uncle and cleaning his house, she prided herself on her ability to do the work well and efficiently, but conditions were hard and he was strict and unforgiving. On the rare occasions that she was left to herself with nothing to do, she ventured out onto the balcony, making sure that nobody caught her there, and stared down the narrow alley in the direction of the market place. Not that she could see that far, for the alley twisted and turned many times before it finally gave way to the bustle and the smells of the stands and their sellers. Her face reddened by much time spent near the open fireplace and her hands and clothes white with flour from baking tomorrow’s bread, she couldn’t help herself imagining that someone would come and carry her away to a better life …