Weaver

She is not a joker in the business the wholesale trade she runs prudently weaving flouting lies into fine truth and established truth into open deceit Her feet always points towards salons market places she does not miss a day those are the places wealthy and teeming with raw materials for weaving articles Many families cry with their hands on mouth children often ask, “Mama why divorce?” shops have been looted and burned down and brides fall apart with their bridegrooms The weaver does not rest on her wooden bed till the textile of lies are finished and sold