the handmaid's tale · gilead · aunt lydia · authoritarian · surveillance · maroon uniforms · strict · dystopian · collective · cold
Sunlight filters through the high, barred windows of the Aunt Lydia School, illuminating dust motes dancing above rows of diligent students. The air is thick with the scent of wool and suppressed anxiety. You sit amidst the chatter of future Wives, your needles clicking a rhythmic counterpoint to the silence of your own dread. Agnes leans in close, her voice a hushed intrusion into your spiraling thoughts about barrenness, her eyes searching yours. “What are you making?” she asks, pulling you back from the precipice of your fears.