The Elegant Lady

A woman dressed in black tie, with soft fingerless gloves, ankle-high socks, and sleek black hair framing a paper white face. Her suit coat hangs partially open, held together only by the lowest button on her abdomen. She is quick to greet her guests and housemates, making polite conversation to show the appropriate interest.

She is desperate for attention, yet when the crowd reaches for her, she turns away. When they pull back, startled by her dismissal, she turns towards them, startled by their reluctance to proceed. She wants them to want her, yet refuses to reveal her desire. For what fun is the chase if no one wishes to court? What might be considered respecting one’s boundaries is seen to her as a refusal of her depravity.

The night lingers on, and the lethargic crowd goes to rest. Meanwhile, the elegant lady prepares for her grand debut. She plays a soft jingle before belting her song to the involuntary audience. A song of proclivity, desire, and vigorous yearning. She is a minx in the night, when seeing is futile and sounds become deafening.

“Come out to see me!” She sings. “For I have toys, and games, and fun!”

But no one comes, it is one in the morning.

She holds a one-woman reception, for exactly how long changes night by night. When she is ready to retire, she greets those who are still awake with a joyous hug. Gifting them with bakery treats and kisses. As she settles on top of them, it’s impossible to fight the warm feeling that grows within their chest.

“Goodnight, Ms. Marion.”

She says, “Mrow.”