**"The Procession"**

The wooden cart creaked under the midday sun, its worn wheels dragging slowly along the cobblestone street. Four naked women—Lena, Katia, Rosa, and Marina—pulled on the ropes tied to their shoulders, their backs glistening with sweat as they dragged the vehicle forward. Their breasts swayed with each step, their nipples hardened by the friction of the air.

Kris sat in the back seat, wearing only an open silk robe, a glass of wine in his hand. Beside him, Elena held a parasol over her head, naked except for the gold bracelets on her wrists.

"Faster," Kris ordered, pinching Elena's thigh.

The women in front obeyed immediately, increasing the pace. Their feet pounded the ground in unison, like well-trained horses.

On the sidewalk, a group of children stopped to watch.

— **"Mommy, why are they pulling the cart naked?"** a little boy asked, pointing.

His mother looked at the group, then at her son, and shrugged.

— **"Oh, it must be some kind of exercise, dear."**

And she continued on her way.

At the corner, a policeman adjusted his belt and looked at the scene. Kris picked up her glass and raised it toward him.

— **"Good morning, officer."**

The policeman yawned.

— **"Good morning."** And he turned his back.

It was *normal*.

The cart turned right, toward the market. Kris ran her fingers through Lena's hair, pulling her back by the leather collar.

— **"Stop, everyone,"** she ordered.

The women stopped immediately, panting, their legs trembling slightly.

— **"Drink."**

They knelt, one after the other, and began licking the sweat that ran down Kris's thighs.

At the bakery counter, a man chewing on bread watched the scene, then looked at the baker.

— **"It's hot today, isn't it?"**

The baker agreed, turning over a cheese bread.

— **"Ah, yes. Very."**

Kris laughed, stroking Lena's head.

It was just another day.

And the city would never notice the difference.