Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Would you please correct the mistakes in my short story, The Feminist?
As Peter was strolling down the street, he saw a woman walking in the opposite direction. He had seen her somewhere, but could not remember where. She was dressed badly - black leader trousers on her fat legs, and long black leader boots, despite being a hot summer day. Under the grey sleeveless top bulged tattoos on her both arms. As they came closer, the woman gave him an icy stare. The piercing in her nose twinkled in the sun, and as they passed by one another, Peter remembered they had met at the lecture of the well-known radical feminist author. It was one of the worst experiences in his life, listening to the speaker raging against men and manliness. Later the refreshments were served, and he and the woman with a ring in her nose sat at the same table and had a conversation.
“Men are animals,” she snorted through her flared nostrils. “Without them the earth would be paradise.” She went on condemning fishing and hunting, and the men who indulged in such cruelties.
Peter, who was a keen angler, could never agree with such an idea.
“Men had been hunting and fishing for thousands of years and women never bothered about that until feminists came to the fore. Fishing and hunting run in a man’s blood. What harm can an angler or a hunter do?”
Her short blond hair bristled; her eyes flashed with fury. Peter followed the movements of her hands that started to tremble. He was bracing himself for a punch. There was a moment of an uncomfortable silence, which was broken by a voice of his girlfriend Anita, who got up and told him to follow her outside. They drove off and had an argument when they arrived home. He blamed Anita for taking him to the lecture in the first place. She said that it was instructive to see what one part of female population thought.
“Don’t you understand what the feminists are doing? They are not interested in well-being of their fellow sisters. They are materialists and best friends of corporations and banks. They want to destroy a man and a traditional family only to build an autocratic consumer society where love and feelings would stop to exist. They would be replaced by more goods and more emptiness.”
Anita shook her head in refusal. “They have done so much for equality.”
“Equality?” Peter snorted. “You are naive. Look who is dying on a battlefield and who is digging coal and minerals deep in mines.”
Their discussion went on for some time and Peter was winning the argument, but probably not because of the evidence, but rather because of all the expensive gifts he had bought her in the past and was going to buy her in the coming time.
Peter turned his head, watched the feminist waddle away and he shuddered. The general election was coming soon and the Feminist party had a realistic chance to be part of the government. The woman told him about their plans for the labour camps, where disobedient men would be re-educated and domesticated, and about the castration of the incorrigible. Involuntarily, Peter laid his hand on his groin, which drew titters from a group of teenage girls. He went crimson and pulled his hand back. His mind was swirling with thoughts. He had to make preparations in case he had to flee the country. The Feminist party and its radical leadership in the government would turn the country upside down. They would use the opportunity to enslave the male population and turn them into eunuchs. He would pack valuables and books in his two bags and keep them beside his bed. If Anita decided to follow him, it would be great, but if she stayed, he would travel alone and find refuge in a country where men and women still behaved according to their nature. Here they had started swapping roles. While talking with people you could become confused. Was it a man or a woman you were talking to or a new creature who had emerged because of an experiment or an anomaly in genes?
At the university where he taught philosophy, he got the impression that some of his colleagues were undergoing transformation. They even depilated all parts of their male bodies and used make-up. Women grew a moustache and beard and did not shave their legs. It was as if a virus was spreading around and people could not protect themselves. Peter stood naked every morning in front of the mirror and looked for the signs of “illness”. Once he dreamed he turned into a woman with a pale body and large breasts, and he woke up soaked in sweat.
He halted by the shop that sold fishing gear and he felt sorrow in his heart. He wished to take his rod with him and his tackle box and sit beside the river for hours, thinking of nothing, just watching the waves rippling, lapping, and sparkling in the sun. But he felt angling was soon going to be forbidden, just as boxing, horse racing and beer drinking in a pub.
He had to be ready. He would escape before it was too late. He had to breathe freely, shout aloud, swear, banter, crack dirty jokes, and feel like a man.
THE END
As Peter was strolling down the street, he saw a woman walking in the opposite direction. He had seen her somewhere, but could not remember where. She was dressed badly - black leader trousers on her fat legs, and long black leader boots, despite being a hot summer day. Under the grey sleeveless top bulged tattoos on her both arms. As they came closer, the woman gave him an icy stare. The piercing in her nose twinkled in the sun, and as they passed by one another, Peter remembered they had met at the lecture of the well-known radical feminist author. It was one of the worst experiences in his life, listening to the speaker raging against men and manliness. Later the refreshments were served, and he and the woman with a ring in her nose sat at the same table and had a conversation.
“Men are animals,” she snorted through her flared nostrils. “Without them the earth would be paradise.” She went on condemning fishing and hunting, and the men who indulged in such cruelties.
Peter, who was a keen angler, could never agree with such an idea.
“Men had been hunting and fishing for thousands of years and women never bothered about that until feminists came to the fore. Fishing and hunting run in a man’s blood. What harm can an angler or a hunter do?”
Her short blond hair bristled; her eyes flashed with fury. Peter followed the movements of her hands that started to tremble. He was bracing himself for a punch. There was a moment of an uncomfortable silence, which was broken by a voice of his girlfriend Anita, who got up and told him to follow her outside. They drove off and had an argument when they arrived home. He blamed Anita for taking him to the lecture in the first place. She said that it was instructive to see what one part of female population thought.
“Don’t you understand what the feminists are doing? They are not interested in well-being of their fellow sisters. They are materialists and best friends of corporations and banks. They want to destroy a man and a traditional family only to build an autocratic consumer society where love and feelings would stop to exist. They would be replaced by more goods and more emptiness.”
Anita shook her head in refusal. “They have done so much for equality.”
“Equality?” Peter snorted. “You are naive. Look who is dying on a battlefield and who is digging coal and minerals deep in mines.”
Their discussion went on for some time and Peter was winning the argument, but probably not because of the evidence, but rather because of all the expensive gifts he had bought her in the past and was going to buy her in the coming time.
Peter turned his head, watched the feminist waddle away and he shuddered. The general election was coming soon and the Feminist party had a realistic chance to be part of the government. The woman told him about their plans for the labour camps, where disobedient men would be re-educated and domesticated, and about the castration of the incorrigible. Involuntarily, Peter laid his hand on his groin, which drew titters from a group of teenage girls. He went crimson and pulled his hand back. His mind was swirling with thoughts. He had to make preparations in case he had to flee the country. The Feminist party and its radical leadership in the government would turn the country upside down. They would use the opportunity to enslave the male population and turn them into eunuchs. He would pack valuables and books in his two bags and keep them beside his bed. If Anita decided to follow him, it would be great, but if she stayed, he would travel alone and find refuge in a country where men and women still behaved according to their nature. Here they had started swapping roles. While talking with people you could become confused. Was it a man or a woman you were talking to or a new creature who had emerged because of an experiment or an anomaly in genes?
At the university where he taught philosophy, he got the impression that some of his colleagues were undergoing transformation. They even depilated all parts of their male bodies and used make-up. Women grew a moustache and beard and did not shave their legs. It was as if a virus was spreading around and people could not protect themselves. Peter stood naked every morning in front of the mirror and looked for the signs of “illness”. Once he dreamed he turned into a woman with a pale body and large breasts, and he woke up soaked in sweat.
He halted by the shop that sold fishing gear and he felt sorrow in his heart. He wished to take his rod with him and his tackle box and sit beside the river for hours, thinking of nothing, just watching the waves rippling, lapping, and sparkling in the sun. But he felt angling was soon going to be forbidden, just as boxing, horse racing and beer drinking in a pub.
He had to be ready. He would escape before it was too late. He had to breathe freely, shout aloud, swear, banter, crack dirty jokes, and feel like a man.
THE END
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