She turned as she disappeared through the door and I waved. She gave me a half-wave and then she was gone. I turned and made my way towards my own apartment, like hers within walking distance of the university. I found myself whistling the same tune she’d been humming and laughed to myself. The days before Saturday were busy and I didn’t find myself thinking about her too often, but when I did I found I was looking forward to seeing her again. She intrigued me. Saturday came and I bought two bottles of wine when I did my grocery shopping. I bought some flowers, too. They weren’t expensive, but the bouquet looked good and I hoped Lorna would like them. I showered, changed into some half-smart casual clothes and at seven sharp I was ringing her bell. At first I thought I had the wrong apartment, because I had to look twice to make sure it was Lorna. The horn-rims were gone, replaced by stylish, modern, frameless spectacles. Gone too was the tight bun of hair. Lorna’s hair was loose. For three more days she had been ordered back to that awful room, crying and pleading for mercy, assuring them in a piteous voice that she would never be guilty of uncooperative behaviour again. Each time they had put her through the same three punishments always ending up with the metal clips and the current slicing into her womanhood.As she lay on the beach and listened to the seagulls and the waves beating on the shore and against all the treacherous rocks which surrounded the island, she remembered again the horrible odour of singed pubic hair and retched for the thousandth time. She tenderly felt the affected parts and was relieved to see and feel that they were healing up nicely at last.It was a thunderstorm that had saved her. One night, as she waited for the sleeping quarters to open for her, a bolt of lightning struck both the island's transformer and standby generator and the camp was without current. Emma had scampered over the no longer electrified fence and fled. In the.
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