Post by Deleted on May 23, 2016 12:18:40 GMT -5
Whores.
Women of the night.
Prostitutes.
Whatever the name, Nora found them most fascinating. These busty women, with their tight bodices and their flimsy skirts that frequented taverns and houses of ill repute. And she stood watching them go about their little business, their little bustling and prancing and jeering and drinking. She watched them with interest, wondering what it cost a woman to behave in such a way… to enjoy such darkness in the world and in life. Did they even enjoy it, was it façade and survival that kept them moving through the routine of lust and desire? That idea fascinated her further… what was so different from these women and the ladies who were wed to men they had no love or even like for? After all, they all got paid for their services rendered didn’t they?
Nora crossed the street, away from the dimly lit tavern entrance- by no means brave enough or stupid enough to enter its leering darkness. She pulled her cape around her, the brown rustic and matching her usual state of attire, and stomped through a puddle in her boots. Nora was a woman, who carried herself with pride and intelligence, but she was not a woman who had a love for skirts. They hindered her daily antics after all.
And that was why she was here, to fetch something from the blacksmiths. But as evening and damp air had drawn in she realised it had been foolish to come alone… fortunately that paranoid realisation was clouded by her current enthralment, and her eyes lingered on the women even as she crossed the street.
~~
OPEN!
Women of the night.
Prostitutes.
Whatever the name, Nora found them most fascinating. These busty women, with their tight bodices and their flimsy skirts that frequented taverns and houses of ill repute. And she stood watching them go about their little business, their little bustling and prancing and jeering and drinking. She watched them with interest, wondering what it cost a woman to behave in such a way… to enjoy such darkness in the world and in life. Did they even enjoy it, was it façade and survival that kept them moving through the routine of lust and desire? That idea fascinated her further… what was so different from these women and the ladies who were wed to men they had no love or even like for? After all, they all got paid for their services rendered didn’t they?
Nora crossed the street, away from the dimly lit tavern entrance- by no means brave enough or stupid enough to enter its leering darkness. She pulled her cape around her, the brown rustic and matching her usual state of attire, and stomped through a puddle in her boots. Nora was a woman, who carried herself with pride and intelligence, but she was not a woman who had a love for skirts. They hindered her daily antics after all.
And that was why she was here, to fetch something from the blacksmiths. But as evening and damp air had drawn in she realised it had been foolish to come alone… fortunately that paranoid realisation was clouded by her current enthralment, and her eyes lingered on the women even as she crossed the street.
~~
OPEN!