Woman Island

A short story men are gonna hate

The women had had enough.

“We tried,” they said to the men as they gathered their children and their belongings, loading them onto massive cargo ships.

“All we wanted was bodily autonomy and a seat at the table. We have good ideas about how to do things, but you keep dismissing and devaluing us—not to mention beating, raping, and killing us—so that’s it. We’re out.”

“And just where are you going?” the men demanded.

“Woman Island,” the women replied. “We’re going to create a new society for ourselves.”

The men laughed—a red-faced, spiteful roar. “Good luck with that!” they sneered. “No chance you’ll survive without us.”

“And why’s that?” the women asked, continuing their orderly loading.

“You’ll need manpower,” the men insisted. “Who’s going to build your infrastructure? Who will open the jars? Who will kill all the spiders?”

“We’ll figure it out,” the women yelled over the thunderous ship engines as they sailed away.