{"Social progress can be measured by the social position of the female sex" - Karl Marx. "I wanted to be free. I wanted to express desires on my own, to shape my own little life" - Alexandra Kollontai. "Women's freedom is the sign of social freedom" - Rosa Luxemburg. "All women, whatever be their position, should demand political equality as a means of a freer life, and one calculated to yield rich blessings to society" - Clara Zetkin. "To understand how any society functions you must understand the relationship between the men and the women" - Angela Yvonne Davis. Happy International Working Women's Day!!!!~... Today is an entry for the Farmpunk contest hosted by 
Female Working Farmers in the RSFSR, B&W foto still
"Happy Ides of March, the day that marked Rome to be an empire!"
"Tak, Imperium! Yes, how could we forget about the Empire?"
"And keep the wise-crack puns to yourself, we may have repulsed those knucklehead policja, but soon the milicja will be crawling all over."
"Aye, loosen up; not like that respond fast with how broken these dirt roads are. Enough time for your trap making as I be punk there while we can work amongst o'er there with our fellow commune mates."
"I swear, you purposefully speak vaguely like a mole actually buried under us and is actively listening; we might as well clamp our skirts while we are at it. Anyways, as much I want to commit to a wicked duo with you, traps come first."
"Yeah, apparently with the assurance of security, my freedom is less vulgar you party-pooper."
"Hush with your idealism, we unfortunately have to attend to a very material world and those damn thick-skulled milicja will be glad to season us with lead."
"Alright, you win this time but this time the load's equal between us. Your legs surely have recovered if you're quivering to make impossible their reaction to hit us right back in the face."
"Alright, let's get out of these skirts first and into field pants; meanwhile can you set up your lil' flyin' robot to scout the area as I get our blasters?"
"Tak! And make sure the batteries are charged, if not go and use some of the bio-fuel made yesterday. They almost filled the tanks up to the brim!"
Stringing on the polish headscarves tightly to their heads, they both were together in the changing room with skirts flying off and more farm field clothes slung on. The humming buzz of an android pulsed around the room, the plasma hissing to life on their scythed-blades and the little beeping noises of the blasters soon followed. Angelina's lips perked up as the battery indicator flashed that 'twas full, Anastazja being confused with why her robot failed to float up before soaring up and scraping the roof once again. Her laugh being muffled under the shrieks and screams of Anastazja, Anastazja's ears weren't that death and her arms stuffed the shirt hurriedly into her pants after quieting the robot down. Angelina's eyes noticed her pal's disorderly dressing and running style on the spot and so tried to leap before her torso was bear-tackled back into the sofa.
Anastazja's stance topping Angelina's still undressed body gave Anastazja's lips the wry crack as Angelina's eyes widened as her memory theatre replayed all the scenes of their play-fights. But her mind was tired of such and instructed the lips to surprise her entire body, and so Angelina's lips felt fiery passion coursing into her mouth as her hands pulled her torso to further lay on top of her. Lips estranged from even a quiet contact in between them for so long, their lips along with their entire body choose to relish it regardless of the sternness of time itself trying to pry them away. But their minds couldn't rest on the simple chuckle of superseding awkwardness and so the hands became daring danger-seekers.
"So Anastazja, mind telling me what we got- hmm! Mmm~ Other than that in the shop of today?"
"Well Angelina, other than a few lil' exchange of our hands mapping the actual physical map we so occupy in, we do have to set up some street lamp shock traps, concealed spikes!- Ah-ha-ha-ha~... and much more with hopwires that hopefully won't give them any pleasure being here."
"A bit hard your jugs, you've been taking care of them since we rested? I know the pace doesn't... mmm mm oh yeah, more, more!~... Ahhh, I know it's been very constant but any time to at least do some skin care?"
"Unfortunately, didn't had the time to not even baby-wipe my face! Dirt along with shriveled crops constantly rain on me!- AH!~ You placed a dynamite down there a bit to hard, but I like it rough when your fingers go into me like that. Yet when we place our bio-fuel traps along with our comrades, let's make sure they don't enjoy the tough love of fire."
"Ah! How could I have forgotten, this area really is brimming up with bio-diesel and fuel. Glad our comrades were smart to wait for Shakespeare's moon to come bear no fruit to those corporate-defending scum. Must say, don't feel bad plotting that hack Field Marshall's death on the night of the battle. Strangling that neck with you and I- hmph... mmm~ At least your lips taste great as well, truly the only sacred thing this universe cares not to change."
Knocks echoing through the door, their hands quickly helped tidy up each other. Their minds feeling way more presentable, Angelina's hands grasped the handle and opened the squeaking door. Their eyes shrunk and head cocked a little forwards as their shoulders flew up, all before their cheeks were truly painted red for their reactions and their conduct. But Babcia's smile didn't waiver, her hands pulling on their cheeks separately, from Angelina's to Anastazja's, as she made her way inside with an enclosed container.
"Ha, ha! So cute you two, bardzo urocze. Worry not, I'm not like that overly-praying, yet still hard-working, husband of mine. After all, we all were created equally under Bóg and it bothers me not that noise of whatever you two were doing. Heh, you reminded me much of my kids back in those glorious days when we could fly the banner and be truly proud for what we were and not for some silly hodgepodge of land. Anyways, Anastazja, I know your metallic guitar got busted so I decided to give you a little trinket for liberating me and this farm of animals and crops away from those grimy hands. If you know your history-"
"Oj mój Bóg, oj mój Bóg! Ah!~"
"Calm down there lil' Anastazja, your hugs are killing me for this wrinkly bag of skin. Old instrument from those ancient times as this used to revolutionize the World, but was truly disconnected, well until now, from the other movements to truly make this a powerful weapon. Hearing those bands on the radio, I may have tensed a bit but punk caught the catharsis which Chopin and Beethoven brought into my ears while still complimenting... the World we once cultivated here before it went to shit and we got forced under this Government. Of course, I don't come bearing gifts only for Anastazja, so come here Angelina and take this map off me."
"Dziękuję bardzo!~ Looks like the hard work's been cut out for us Anastazja, told you there were some who still yearn for the past. Anyways, quite numerous the locals and the possible traps. Gotta confirm with the rest before we roll out any plan, yet I think this shall win them over easily. Anywho, do you need hands for anything on the farm?"
"Ah! Glad you asked that, I just need you to help throw grass into cows' feeding tray. Your- I mean our collected comrades clearly have done or doing the other taskers. Thanks for helping us rebuild what we once lost when they started trenching up the area, seemed like we be here forever. But history shows that there are no invincible armies and I'm glad yours was the winning ones. So I trust you to send a message that will stick in so deep, that it made Brutus's plunge into Cæsar's body look shallow."
Angelina's and Anastazja's hands grasping each other and their faces nuzzling, they followed the lead of Babcia and their minds felt more relieved tossing grass up instead of tearing them on the fields and sideways of the roads. An old tune that once and still lifts the heart of every worker began being whistled by the Babcia, Anastazja and Angelina soon following before any worker coming in and out soon whistled the tune back. But the work still going, the beads of sweat still poured unto the mud floor as the bodies began collectively screamed for rest, but the spirits feeling strong and united together to ward off rest as energy was still to be expanded upon. Exuberance being depleted, the working spirit still knitting them together tight but free they were to breathe, think and not feel a stomach go aching.
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