MISANDRIST
PROLOGUE
The bottom of Wendy’s feet pounded with great pain as she scurried down the busy downtown streets. Groups of folk rushed into retail stores on today’s shoppers’ paradise for the hottest deals. Memorial Day weekend certainly brought out a melting pot of people onto one of Chicago’s most industrious streets, Michigan Avenue. Since she was carrying a load of money in her purse, Wendy wanted to take advantage of all the deeply discounted merchandise sales, too.
But when she saw him holding hands with her, she made a quick dash to the right and into a department store she had never considered going into beforehand. Standing behind a mannequin now, Wendy watched them closely as they walked by.
“Excuse me ma’am, can I assist you with something?” asked a tall woman wearing black slacks, a white blouse, and a green nametag with the name Cathy on it.
Wendy waved the lady assistant off as her hurtful eyes jumped out at the couple. His arm was draped around her shoulder, her long golden-brown hair, and he was smiling—so widely that Wendy could see all thirty-two of his sparkling white teeth.
Wendy exited after them and remained close behind. His normal stride seemed to get smoother as he focused on pulling her head in closer to his chest. They made it to the street corner where a short Indian woman wearing a long red dress stood waving pamphlets of Jesus Christ. She carefully placed one in Wendy’s hand.
“Christ is our savior,” the woman yelled. “Do you believe?”
The light turned green. Five steps after stepping into the crosswalk, Wendy dropped the pamphlet onto the asphalt for everyone to stomp on. She continued...