Magdalena Zenaida

Bound and Unbound

In the shadows of the snaking alleyways, the tiny hairs at the back of his neck grazed his collar like the fuzz of a peach. Was it always that cool and damp in Edinburgh? Why did he keep returning? It was silly, really. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of prostitutes in London. Wouldn’t it be easier if he chose one there? Some were beautiful, certainly more so than Renata, whose eyebrows were always a little too thick, betraying the emotions she tried to mask with a courtesan’s skill. Some were very talented- musicians and dancers that were not quite at the level of society where they were celebrated, yet fallen just far enough to accept money for love while they guarded their ardent passions within their hearts. He valued art too highly to take advantage of their desire without being able to serve as their patron. And besides, it was too close to his honest life, the life he lived with Milly.