The Wanderer. Given to the Husband's Brother
4 hrs. 23 min.
Language
Russian
Author
Iman Kalbi
Author
Iman Kalbi
Narrator
Nadezhda Pylina
Narrator
Nadezhda Pylina
Description
My future mother-in-law lunges at me, gripping sharp scissors, grabbing my hair, and yanking it painfully.
“You bitch! It’s all because of you, you faithless creature—my son died! Do you know what the Caucasus custom requires for widows like you? You’ll live in a basement, sleep on the floor, walk barefoot and be shaved bald!”
I try to pull away, but my strength is gone—she’s been starving me in this pit for the third day...
“Get away from her! Immediately!”—at first it seems, this fierce male roar is just in my imagination.
And then I learn that voice.
I lift my head at the “savior”...
Only the savior is worse than the executioner...
Baty r—my husband’s brother.
The one I once spat in the face and swore: “You’ll be the last man I’ll ever be connected to.”
Our eyes meet. He smirks darkly.
“I’m taking her for myself. That’s also an old Caucasus custom. A widow can only belong to the husband’s brother—if he wants. And I want.”
But the husband’s brother whom I once rejected isn’t planning to play with me for love...
“You’ll be a saibiya in my house. My servant. Mine and my two women.”
❃❃❃❃❃
From the author: Alternative Caucasus, fiction; any resemblance is coincidental. The text is directed toward a morally sound ending and affirms the values of family, respect for all religions and nationalities.
“You bitch! It’s all because of you, you faithless creature—my son died! Do you know what the Caucasus custom requires for widows like you? You’ll live in a basement, sleep on the floor, walk barefoot and be shaved bald!”
I try to pull away, but my strength is gone—she’s been starving me in this pit for the third day...
“Get away from her! Immediately!”—at first it seems, this fierce male roar is just in my imagination.
And then I learn that voice.
I lift my head at the “savior”...
Only the savior is worse than the executioner...
Baty r—my husband’s brother.
The one I once spat in the face and swore: “You’ll be the last man I’ll ever be connected to.”
Our eyes meet. He smirks darkly.
“I’m taking her for myself. That’s also an old Caucasus custom. A widow can only belong to the husband’s brother—if he wants. And I want.”
But the husband’s brother whom I once rejected isn’t planning to play with me for love...
“You’ll be a saibiya in my house. My servant. Mine and my two women.”
❃❃❃❃❃
From the author: Alternative Caucasus, fiction; any resemblance is coincidental. The text is directed toward a morally sound ending and affirms the values of family, respect for all religions and nationalities.
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