I stood in my room, in front of the broken sword that I never got repaired. I've gotten its maintenance done many times before but not this time. This time I felt like leaving it like this.
It was originally like this. It's sort of amazing how it broke from exactly the same place from where it was originally broken, part of the reason why I thought so much about my tribe again.
I slowly slid my hand across the top of the transparent case in which the sword was kept.
In the back of my mind. In the very depths of my consciousness I had this one thing I wanted to be true. A wishful thinking I always wanted.
That the tribes would change and their laws be turned for the better. The world had changed so much and in the past thirty years the world took a drastic turn yet the tribes act so stubborn. They want to continue their old traditions but really, it's time to change and they should realize it.
The women should be given more worth and the men should be less aggressive.
