The prompt I chose:
Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm
Robert Burns
She had witnessed the way some of the old town gentlemen celebrated their nights. Not a woman in sight except for those that prepared the feast on which these pigs stuffed themselves. Relegated to the role of waitress was not her style. Beckoning at their every call sent her brows up like two woolly worms getting ready to fight. And on top of that she had to clean up their filthy mess. She thought her future would consist of a lovely husband some rug rats to keep things interesting. Every night she dreamed of them in their graves.
jealously she had
an old girl should have some fun
not in this boy’s club
But she dreamed, and with the other ladies left at home, made a plan. Nothing drastic. Nobody would get hurt. The beer will still flow and the fiddle play. Roles would just be reversed. These decrepit drunks would soon be asleep.
when these old men wake
this village of Alloway
belongs to the girls
