Through the warm, scented night air she calls. Excited eyes chance a leering glance, tempted by pleasures yet unrevealed.
Men and women approach – investigate her every space; crawling over each inch of her once firm, unmarked frame. Nowhere is sacred. For the paying customer she leaves nothing to the imagination.
These relationships though are but fleeting moments. She craves more; she needs more – she needs love. Some say it is not meant to be: her aged, tangled roots so deep, stubbornly locked in place.
As the daylight fades, night returns. Once again she dazzles in all her glory. Yours, for a price.
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.