Elegance
This girl was more than just another whore, she was a lady. A princess amongst the squalor of train wrecked lives. Her head was held high although her grey eyes were averted from my gaze in demure modesty. The obscene makeup served to divert the looker’s attention from the features underneath, for surely one could not handle a creature so stunning.
Scantily clad, as with most other dancers in this strip club, her posture was that of someone used to being raped at a glance. Her long arms cast in front of her to make up for what her clothing failed to cover. Yet to me, she was the picture of elegance.
And I, as was my job, approached her & asked softy, “Do you want to be here? Are you here by choice?” Those grey eyes held no emotion as she coldly answered, “Why would anyone choose this for themselves?” But as I turned, I saw the tear that escaped & darted down her cheek.
She was older than me, or so I think. It’s hard to tell. But something inside me longed to take her in my arms & stroke her hair. I wished I could make her understand how much He loves her, how much I love her. I stood in a stupor, my heart bursting with secrets. I know how it is, I wanted to say. I’m all too familiar with these surroundings. But there is healing. There is hope.
Her chin lifted. She took a unsteady breath. She blinked back the waterfall of tears that threatened to cascade over the brink of her lashes. The mask reappeared. And a smile was pasted on as she accepted $20 from a lewd drunk man & proceeded to give him a lap dance.
I thought about her that night driving home. I thought about her while making my coffee the next morning. I think about her often & as I do, I pray to God for the chance to make a difference. It’s all about the one.
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