Q&A

"Can I ask you a question?" asked Florence Meekly.

"You may," said Reggie in a condescending tone.

"This may sound weird, but when did women lose their rights?"

"They don't teach history in acting school?"

"Um, I guess not."

"Started in the Sixties. Why did you stop cleaning?"

"Oh, sorry." Florence continued to straighten up the living room. "So the Sixties?"

"Yes, countries decided all that women's lib crap was bad for society: too many children born outside of wedlock, increase in crime, and stuff."

"And women were blamed?"

"Of course. Are you really this ignorant, or is this an act? I think it's an act."

"No really. I am that ignorant." Florence did not want to admit she seemed trapped in a new world as that would sound crazy. She just stayed quiet.

"Broom and dust pan are in the kitchen pantry."

Florence went to the kitchen and retrieved the broom and dustpan and went back to start sweeping the living room floor.

Reggie's phone beeped. He texted a few times. "I have to run. I'll be back in an hour. He pulled something out of his pocket. It was small bracelet. He snapped it around Florence's ankle. "Ankle monitor," he said. "Only the constable can remove it. If you leave this place, we'll know, and you'll get shipped to what we liked to call Bitch Re-education Center. When I get back, I'll have a friend with me. Get ready to be spit-roasted, and when I say I want this place spotless, it better be spotless. Clean enough to lick the floors and toilets."

Florence did not like the way Reggie said that last sentence, but she just nodded.

Reggie grabbed his keys and left.