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This is what she wants most in the world. She wants the soft silk, covering her skin. She wants the diamonds, and pearls, and passion of a man. She wants this so desperately that she can’t see past it, she has no other ambitions, no other dream, nothing of significance other than the luxuries she can’t even dream of affording. In fact this women is so hell bend on this twisted desire, she does most anything to get it. She dances at the gentlemen club where the men eye her, want her, lust over her. She sweeps the dirt covered floors covered with the waste of animals and the waste of humans. She cleans the houses, decadent in their grandeur. Dusting the lies, the shame, and troubles of her life as it sweeps away. Yet everyday she returns to dust and dust. She thinks she must, must dust the shadows of her life.
Amongst the dancing, the dusting, and the cleaning lays the women without her mask. Messy brown hair swirls around the outer layers of her head. Eyes, a lovely green, with dark bags dragging them down frame the jewels, which she can’t seem to see for the world of her. Skin of snow covers her body. Beauty could be hers, but all she sees is the dream. Desperate and lonely she wanders throughout life. She wonders when will her agony end, but what she doesn’t know is it could end.
She won’t allow it though; she still looks in the mirror and doesn’t see a queen. She doesn’t see her jewels. She spends all her time cleaning and dusting her life away. She would rather dance for the gentlemen, clean the house of the rich, and lust for luxuries. She doesn’t seem to notice the things waiting for her like the marvelous boy, rich not in money, but personality, standing outside her dumpy building, waiting to take her hand. He eyes her slim figure, but feels pity for this lost soul. She simply can’t wrap the idea around her thick skull that she could be loved. All she wants is the luxuries.
Yes, this is what she wants most in the world. She wants to be out of her ratty apartment on Conwell’s street and in beautiful house clothed in decadence. She wants to look in the mirror and see a queen. She wants the luxuries, the finest things a person can touch, taste, feel, and lust over.
So the girl will keep dancing, while the men lust over her curves, long to touch that soft skin, and eye every jewel someone else wants. She’ll continue sweeping and dusting for this is all she knows how to do. I can’t say how long it will take her to learn, to see the truth. I predict she’ll be dancing dusting, and lusting for quite a while. Yet who I am to say, perhaps she’ll see the boy or look in the mirror to see the jewels she possesses. Only time will tell.
The scene shifts to the boy who stands outside her apartment. He sees her day after day leaving at late hours of night. He wonders where she goes. Where did she come from? He may not know her past, but he has made observations. He sees her beauty, but feels pity. She hides behind make up, perhaps she is trying to the fact that she is poor, perhaps she wishes she was someone else. He isn’t for sure why, but he sees marks on her arms. Was she hurt by some man? Was she hurt as a child? He may not know it, but she was indeed hurt as a child and by men. That is why she is ashamed. She was never good enough. Perhaps she thinks she won’t ever be good enough.
The men at the club think she is. Some think she is too good. There is one man in particular. One night after she left he followed her, lust was on his heart. The ally was where the she got the scars, for she fought back. Yet the men see she comes and comes. Night after night, she dances and they lust.
The house owners scuffle at her when she cleans. They think she isn’t good enough, no one maid is worthy of attention. They don’t see her beauty, but in fairness neither does she. They ladies of grandeur whisper behind her back. Although it isn’t lies they are whispering. They say, “She was an orphan, given up by parents like us. She was a pest.” She catches a few whispers, but stays despite that. She lusts for her dream.
Maybe someday she will see that the whispers are wrong. That she is worthy of more than just this dream, but for now she cleans, dusts, and dances. Maybe someday she can be happy with the life she has, just maybe. Maybe tonight will be the night that he talks to her, tells her she is beautiful….
In fact, look! There she is passing. He steps forward and introduces himself.
“Hello miss, I am William. I wanted to talk to you sooner, but I didn’t know what to say to a beauty like you.”
The girl blushes.
“Hello, William, my name is Elizabeth.”
These words made seem insignificant, but this conversation leads into a friendship, a marriage, and a family. For now though she will spend the night talking to him though. No, tonight she isn’t going to the gentlemen’s club or cleaning. She is starting to find a new dream.



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