<ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul"><span style="font-size: 26px">"It was the year of our lord.."<br/>
<br/>
Every Sunday morning Monet would wake up to those words. Just who exactly was the Lord? Was the Lord her masters master? So many questions ran through her head especially when her Benefactress would send to her the markets right after the ships left harbor. Supplies would be fresh that morning and that evening. She went twice a day to see what she could pick out for the cook's. The harbor was always misty around the morning and late at night. The harbors were more frightening at night because the mist covered the harbor in such a way it would make on believe they were walking through a cemetery. The Cemetery was becoming quite the popular place, but not for the living. There had been many reports (Well the ones they government told about) about people finding open caskets and un-dug graves. However her Benefactress was a lady of Finesse it merely took it as some young juveniles attempt to rile up the city. Monet herself didn't know what to think of it. She lived in this state her entire life and even the swamps had their own stories.<br/>
<br/>
Time was passing by quickly today. A storm was coming in from the east and she had to hurry with her evening shopping. The markets weren't as crowded as they usually were. Master and slaves alike walked the boarded planks, passing bins of fruit or poultry. Every so often merchants from far away places would bring finely woven cloth and jewelry to catch a pretty maiden's eye. It always caught her eye to see all those rich colors and gold and silver metals. However she had a job to do.  Most slaves didn't get treated as nicely as she did. The Benefactress had become like a surrogate mother, lecturing teacher, and a classy admiration all in one.  Walking carefully across the planks she stopped to purchase some fruit and potatoes. Checking for virility and good consumption. Paying for her items she went on her way. The darkening clouds caused the sky to get darker sooner than she would have liked. Yucking the basket securely under her arm she ran back onto the muddles streets of her mistresses manor.</span>[/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u][/list:u]</li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul></li>
</ul>