In the 1600’s, in a small town in a market place, in a time when religion was the only base of all morals among people, and the government worked on behalf of god. A small town is filled with commotion after a woman has been prosecuted and sentenced with punishment for adultery. Her punishment is to bear a Scarlet letter, an “A” on her bosom, for the rest of her living days. The woman has born a child who she is always seen with, whom is her one and only companion. Years after the sentence, the child now seven years of age, she lives her life, making way by stitching garments for her fellow towns people.
A certain air of mystery still surrounds her, and a great deal of curiosity, for she has not given up the name of the one who was partner in godly sin. She is quite often seen walking through the market place with her sin-born child Pearl, doing their shopping, buying their bread, but one can feel the eyes turn and burn upon the two when they pass, for no one has put to rest the case of Hester Prynne. There I was minding my own nevermind when like a bolt of lightning from the heavens I saw Mistress Hester Prynne with her daughter. Mistress Prynne sticks out like a sore thumb.
She is an odd one. She walked with the child holding her hand, slowly, as heads to turned. She stood so clear of everyone else that I saw the brand clearly. It was a work of art. Never have I seen such good stitching. Standing in the light, her hair taken back, looking without expression. A picturesque woman, voluptuous breasts and smooth curves seem to be noticeable even though the scarlet letter seemed to steal much of the attention. Her complexion so fair, and so white in the light. Her dress, though simple, hung on her like a she was wearing a garment made of gold.
The letter, as if it were a large broach, so majestic, it was almost ridiculous to think it as a mark of shame. I moved closer to her general direction, hoping that I could get a closer look, as if that would let me into her mind, or into her thoughts. My curiosity grew larger, and I wondered how she felt knowing all eyes were upon her chest, upon the mark. She showed no signs of emotion, not a smile, let alone a frown, as if none around her existed. Could she feel the eyes burning upon her? Well as sure as day, she turned around and looked me in the eye. I froze.
I saw a glistening in her eyes, gleaming, looking straight at me… like she was actually human. It seemed that in those days though people had minds of their owns, the labels that were smacked among people were enough to change a cow to a pig in the eyes of a believer. And when god was brought in the matter things were even more mystical. Some traits of society have been brought down since the 1600’s, and this one. It seems that something’s must be justified as human nature, rather than society’s regulations and morals, such as guilt, curiosity and fear of the unique.