Her eyes are transfixed, unsure of this creature that steps towards her. It’s almost as though the female is trying to be scary, as though she’s trying to make the bones of her legs rattle and shake. And yet, Sloane does not fear her. Sloane knows no fear. Her entire life has been dictated by her ability to meander through life, navigating what life throws her. She cannot be fearful. She must press onward. And that is where her independence comes from.
Sloane explains to this stranger that she has a thirst and knowledge that knows no limits. She’s always been that one that has always been eager to learn. The topic of her learning is ever changing and no topic is left out. Sloane finds that this has made her well-rounded, that it has given her a platform to bond with any others who are eager to partake in her system of buying and selling secrets.
It was this stranger’s answer that has her looking up at the mare with a curiosity that knew no limits. She cannot help but wonder if this stranger simply thinks she’s going to put out for free. She was not a cheap whore working the corner. No. She was a mastermind of her craft – and such mastery came at a high cost. “You don’t honestly think I will simply tell you all my secrets. I don’t give away my information for free.” Her words are spoken in almost a mocking manner. One can sense the humor in her voice, that small laughter that’s hiding just beyond reach. Yes, she’s practically mocking the other, making fun of her in a sense that’s not entirely upfront, but more discreet and hidden. Could she see past her words and find the teasing?
Eyes move from the other towards the ground, watching as the dead flowers begin to pool at the stranger’s feet. There’s something ironic about the death that pools there, and yet, it does nothing to Sloane except make the corners of her lips pull back in a smirk. She finds this whole encounter amusing and yet…strangely romantic. It was a shame the two were not in some sort of twisted romantic relationship. Then perhaps this could have been classified as a date – a death date.
@wormlust
