When Night Falls

A soft moan of relaxation. The idyllic sound of a gentle breeze stirring the curtains of her bedroom. Soft sunlight pooled on every surface, Cora could feel it through the silk sheet she was tangled in. Stretching her slender arms above her head, Cora could not help but give a small blissful sigh as she savored the last lingering moments of her dream.

She was dancing in lush grass, feeling each blade against the skin of her toes. A cool stream ran nearby. It trickled through her ears and down her throat. The sun-kissed her skin in eager warmth, but the trees made sure she was not too hot. Cora's deep bronze skin was soft from the fresh air, instead of creams that smelled of chemicals. Their leaves dappled her body in their shade. Cora breathed in the faint hint of wildflowers blooming nearby and still undiscovered. The scent of soil reached her and she knew rain had only just moved on. Everything Cora had ever dreamed of surrounded her. The breeze carried the notes of a piano as it danced with her and raced through her long, black hair. They were notes of music she remembered, though she did not know from where.

Snuggling deeper into her sheets, Cora longed to return to the meadow. The sun now pestered her face, straining to peer under her eyelids and telling her there would be no returning to the world of her dreams.

Plunging her toes into lush carpet rather than soft grass, the familiar crawling sensation of displeasure crept up her spine. Her room was distastefully lavish. All the rooms were. They gave the illusion of sophistication in a place devoid of it. The money on her bedside table was a testament to that. Donning more substantial clothing, Cora felt the last touch of her meadow leave her. Resignation gripped her like a steel trap as she descended into the reality waiting for her down the elegant stairs beyond her bedroom door.

"Have a nice night Cora?" A shrill, laughing voice asked her as she entered the lounge.

"Yes actually. I had a rather lovely dream," Cora's answer was simple and earnest, unbothered by the jab.

"And some fine company," another girl added cheekily and whom Cora patiently ignored.

She took a steaming cup of cinnamon tea from Mae, or Madame Mae as she was professionally known, and settled herself atop a cushion, pulling her legs in towards her body. Mae was the brothel's owner. She was a fair boss, if a bit stern at times, and she portrayed her title to a T. Impeccably dressed, her long velvety skirt brushed the tops of polished black boots. Ruffles bloomed from the shoulders of her perfectly pressed and buttoned blouse. Although her dark hair was beginning to show a few rebellious gray strands, not one was out of place, but rather neatly subdued in a pin-up behind her head.

"Remember, as long as the lot of you are back before nightfall, the day is yours to do what you wish with. I hope that there is no need to remind you of the consequences should you fail to be back in time for work," Mae's voice held coldly threatening undertones that kept the girls in line.

Cora joined the mass of nodding heads and the chorus of voices answering with a slightly subdued, "Yes Mae."

Girls began getting up, at varying paces as they finished the amount of breakfast they had chosen for themselves. For Cora, her cup of tea was enough for now. She rose, handing her cup to the girls assigned to washing the day's dishes, and moved towards the establishment's front door.

"Cora," Mae's voice halted the girl, making her turn around. "Make sure you return safely." Mae's words had a note of true caring that Cora was unfamiliar with. Madame Mae turned and strode away towards her study before Cora could respond.

The high morning sun hit Cora's face as she stepped outside, skirts swishing around her legs. The stench hit her next. Foul odors wafted up from grates and potholes leading to sewers beneath their feet. Her lungs soon became filled with the familiar air, thick with gray smog that strolled through the streets and buildings of Gedrall, originating from the factories that surrounded the city. Dirt was everywhere. Brick walls turned black, tattered and grungy clothing clung to those who slept on the streets. Dirt and filth were ways of life that the people had learned to ignore.