The pink and blue sizzle of neon sparked, buzzing her body with hot electric light. The pulsating booms coming through the floor filled the space with energy. The currency of sin lay around her. Smell of sweat, breath. Scent of perfume, grease, dirt, booze. Feverish excitement. She sheds her skin and reveals her honest self. Dizzying swings, swaying, writhing, hands on flesh. Her hands on her flesh…a hazy display of societal decay.
The shadows around her have no hands, hands off. They must obey…for the most part, or be forcefully removed from existence.
Up.
Down.
Swing your body this way now.
Drop and crawl to here. Crawl to them, a little more until you’re here. The body knows what it is doing.
The eyes on you, all over your body – moving up and down, in and out. She can’t see but she can feel it. Cleared throats and soft moans escape the mouths. Odd and erotic simultaneously, dirty and glamorous, sinful and heavenly. The epicenter of the room, nothing exists outside the neon glow across her naked skin.
The shadows explode, begging for more. Each dying for a single touch, the feel of moist skin hot, her skin, hot with desire; but to her there is nothing more than the smoky haze and the warm neon light in which she nightly bathes. She is protected on her pedestal in the soft colored light, safe from the wretchedness outside.
