She’s not as young as the others, mid-forties I’d say. No precarious stilettoes, no fishnets, no vaudeville make-up mask. She wears sensible heels, a slightly loose-round-the-hips pencil skirt, a classy turquoise silk blouse.
I think she’s an office worker caught up in the wrong crowd. But no, she leans in to the slowing cars along with the best of them. She knows her stuff; it’s second nature. The professional smile flashes on, leaves her eyes alone. A real pro.
I can’t hear what she says over the traffic, but can lip-read enough. She’s not shy about the trade, knows her worth. Drivers shake their heads, move on to the cheaper packages, the ones who need the money for the pimp and the needle. Finally, she stands alone.
The Rolls Royce sweeps into view. Here he is, her target. No need to show her wares. Her eyes smile now. A rear door opens, out steps her man. She sashays slowly around the bonnet, tapping her nails lightly on its gleaming paintwork.
“A little late tonight. Five hundred, Mr Sloane.”
I hear her now; the street is empty.
“A steal, my dear. And my pleasure, as always.”
15 thoughts on “Honey – Sunday Photo Fiction”
“Smile flashes, leaves her eyes alone” How good is that, and |I loved the way you built up identity and atmosphere so economically
Thank you so much, Peter. I do enjoy ‘tight’ writing. But it’s quite exhausting… 🙂
It takes a connoisseur to appreciate matured wine 🙂
Indeed, it does. Thank you!
I like this. The fact that she will not lower herself and get the leering and dirty minded. She goes for the real class, the real Belle from Secret Diary of a Call Girl. Great story Freya
She knows her worth 🙂 Thank you, Al!
You’re welcome 🙂
Fantastic ! She is truly a lady..
Indeed she is 🙂
This story definitely works! 🙂
Good, I’m glad that you think so!
With age brings class 😉 great job
That’s what I say, definitely. Thank you!
An excellent piece. 🙂
Thank you 🙂