The slave auction’s always a frightful place — leastwise for a female slave like me. I never know who’s gonna buy me… or if anyone will like what they see.
A thousand thoughts run wild through my head every time the crowd circles ‘round. When a kind-eyed buyer takes a closer look at my shackled frame, I do my best to stand tall — to show every bit of strength and shape I’ve got left. Maybe then, just maybe, someone will see more than a number.
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