Inanna’s father was growing tired of her moping around – her silent presence fell thick and heavy on the house.

Soon the whole vibration of the home matched hers and everyone seemed to walk around shrouded in an aura of sadness.

When Inanna was young she used to lift the vibration of everyone in the house. She would paint, dance and sing. The whole room filled with her unique energy and you couldn’t help but feel happy and uplifted when she was around.

But the mood had long changed and her father thought it was high time he did something about this.

She would never find a husband at the rate she was going.

Who would even look at an emaciated, drawn, unhappy, sour looking woman.

No, it would be up to him to sort her out.

He knew of just the gentleman.

Inanna was summonsed down from her room late one afternoon.

Her mother was paying extra special attention to her that morning and she did find this odd. She washed and braided her hair and put her in a very feminine looking gown.

It wasn’t one Inanna would wear ordinarily but she had lost her spark and couldn’t be bothered arguing anymore, it was a waste of her precious energy.

“You look beautiful Inanna”, her mother said proudly as she brushed the side of her face with her hand.

She really was extraordinarily beautiful, a little too thin these days but beautiful none the less.

Inanna’s body had suffered a similar fate to her mother’s but hers was due to her emotional trauma.

She was a shadow of her former self, her body lithe, her cheekbones shallow, her eyes sunken and drawn. Her once ample bosom now sat so close to her chest she could be mistaken for someone half her age. Gone were all the curves that celebrated her femininity, all the things that celebrated her womanhood – and in its place stood a withered and gaunt soul.

“A woman has to have a little meat on her bones, some curves and shape to hold on to”, her father always use to say – not that her mother had any, she was skin and bone, the years of anxiety and fear had taken a toll on her once beautiful figure.

Inanna often wondered if he found his curves elsewhere.

Nothing would surprise her anymore – although in this day and age, marriage hardly meant monogamy, it meant more a good woman to bare children and carry on the bloodline and to cook, mend and sew.

The idea of marriage to anyone but Eamon made Inanna bilious.

She didn’t even entertain the idea.

She felt her name being hollered up the stairway.

“Go now” her mother whispered, kissing her gently on the cheek.

Inanna looked at her curiously – “What was going on?” she pondered.

She made her way down into the ‘good’ room – well only good when someone important was visiting.

She pushed open the door and standing in front of her were two men – her father and another.