Arabian Night

Amenii’s eyes fluttered closed as the camera clicked, ‘And Hold.’ Another click. Her ears shifted to follow the sound of his footsteps, changing the angel, ‘And Hold.’ Click.

The room was cool, the clothing she was garbed in contributed to the cold, nothing but sand silks, and an amulet hung around her neck. Whispers of silk wound themselves around her face, head, and neck, shivered with each breath she took.

‘Okay, that’s all for now.’

At his cue, Amenii relaxed her posture. Being a regal and cortisone of the night was hard work. Silently she said her thanks again to Ubie, with her new legs, she could slip into any outfit without worrying about the fabric tangling her lets. And no one seemed to notice that they were artificial, instead of the original. Mr. Ubie had commented that there may be a way to grow them, but that was some time off.

Shaking the though from her head, Amenii dismounted the pedestal to gather up her bath robe and get a drink, her silks whispered behind her.

He is watching, she did not need to turn around to know his eyes were on her, following her every step.

When she had first begun modeling, that had scared her, now though, it was second nature. Let his stare, let them talk, if anything it would only help to rebuild her reputation in the model industry.

C.S. Notes: I've been thinking about 1001 Arabian Nights of late. If you have not read it, it is a great book.