Tomorrow is Another Day… The living room is finally spotless, Every speck of dust eliminated. The in-laws were satisfied with the meal, And her performance in the day as a good wife. Everything was done, And now she could throw herself on the mattress, That served more than as a meagre bed for her. It was her bank of comfort. Here she cried in agony, Here she dreamt of a different life. Here she massaged her poor weary bones, Here she could be free for a few hours. She couldn’t bear of starting yet another tomorrow, Welled up with chores, nagging and harsh words. She couldn’t bear yet another range of awful tomorrows, Where she was treated like a slave and not as a woman. She thought of yet more hours of cooking and cleaning, She thought of yet more instances of rage and abuse.