The Shadowed Dancer

Upon rising she thanks God for another day vowing to be glad for another. Reaching for the book to recite the ancient words aloud. They are filled with the marching orders of the day for her guardian angel to carry out.  

Having a few morsels to nourish her frail body.  Washing them down with a strong elixir.  She begins another day of dread. Wishing for another answer, another way. Also taking in positive messages from a few mentors she now can begin to become who she doesn’t want to be. 

Plucking last nights whiskers and painting on a happy face. Dressing her body in less than she ever imagined would be a uniform.  She thumbs through her collection of happy music.  Hours of tunes are at her disposal to forget what’s in the back of her mind. Sitting at the desk of desperation she logs onto her computer and readies herself to begin.  The number of her viewers count higher and higher as she slowly disrobes to nakedness.  The full length mirror to the left of her brings her company so she doesn’t feel alone.  Winking and smiling to herself in the mirror as they watch in awe as if the dance was only for them to enjoy.  

She whispers to herself hopes of making more than half minimum wage per hour.  As she caresses her breasts and plays with her hair.  

The notification chimes for a private dance request. Reluctantly she obliges to give what is demanded.  They want to see more, hear more, as much as they can.  

As she dances and poses like no one is watching.  But the reality is she hates what has become the vicious cycle just to keep the lights on.  Just to keep the water on.  Just to keep the internet connection on.  Many are watching and they desire the attention of parts that she longs to rid herself of. Once they are gone she will be complete once and for all.  But the viewers don’t care about that because to them it’s the best of both worlds.  So she continues the dance, continues the show.  

Finally the screen fades to black signaling that the session is over. The gentleman gives his thanks and wishes her a good night. Returning a heartfelt appreciation since she’s made enough to call it a night.  She thanks her remaining viewers for tuning in.  Add me, follow me are the calling cards of this day and age.  Hoping to attain more admirers for an easier next time.  She shut down her computer and bathed another night away.  While thanking God for mercy that things aren’t any worse than they are.  She knows it gets better, it must, it will.  

But as her head rests upon her pillow, her reality for now is she’s just a shadowed dancer.