Victoria Mas

‘No. Thing is, I’ve never felt as peaceful as I do here surrounded by madwomen. Men bruised and beat me. My body is a disaster. My leg hurts and I’ve got a limp. I get pains fit to make you scream every time I piss. I’ve a scar goes right across my left breast where some man tried to hack it off. Here I feel protected. There’s just us women. I knit shawls for the girls and I feel all right. So no, I wouldn’t leave, not ever. Long as men have pricks, all the evil in this world will go on existing.’

‘Help those around you.’

‘Existence is fascinating, don’t you think?’

At times, when she is annoyed, there is a ruthless glimmer in her eyes. She is no longer pitied, as she was before: she is feared.

The two women stand shoulder to shoulder, staring out at the gardens that grow paler as the snow continues to fall before them.