The sight of him sends heat pulsing through my veins. My skin grows warm. Sheer will pushes me forward. What’s worse, my throat dries and heart hammers, I can feel his energy fixating on me. There’s a thousand women in this room; a thousand men too. He’s misdirected. He’s confused. Why would anyone pursue?
Doesn’t he see? People like me … We exist in the shadow. There for your amusement, or bemusement, but never serious inquiry. We slip in the cracks, stay behind a crowd’s back. His aim’s amiss. That must be it.
He must know I’m just a play thing, just the monster free of chains.
Ragtag Daily Prompt – Dream
I haven’t done this prompt in a while but I’m trying to get back to writing regularly and want to incorporate it.