All Dressed Up

Lily dreamed of something better.  This life was nothing more than slavery.  True, some of the girls didn’t mind it, and a few even enjoyed it, but not Lily.  She longed for romance, to know what the kiss of one man alone felt like, to be looked at with love and respect rather than lust.

A stagecoach was due in that day, likely with another load of fat, dirty men hoping to strike it rich, not realizing that the gold was already scarce.  In the beginning, she had hoped one of those men would be her ticket out of this dingy hole.  It wasn’t long before she comprehended how naïve she had been.  Men don’t go to brothels to find wives, only to fulfill their momentary passions.

When the coach finally arrived, Lily, who was watching from the porch, was surprised to see a young, well-dressed man step down from it.  Businessmen rarely came to their dying little town anymore.  She raced up to her room to don her best lace gloves and freshen her dress and face.  She wasn’t the same innocent girl her father had sold to the brothel, but she still had a touch of hope left in her heart.

By the time he entered the establishment, she was ready.  She was still young and as beautiful as she could be in her line of business, and she easily captured his attention.  Once in the privacy of her room, she commented, “That’s a mighty big gun, handsome.” 

He laid the firearm on a table.  “Indeed.  But my hands will be enough.”  Without emotion, and before Lily could react, he had his slender fingers around her throat.  “The pretty ones are always the hardest,” he whispered in her ear as her body slid to the floor.