La Femme Camélia

The cold is deep late at night. The enticing glow humming through the windows beckons them. They know where they are going. They know who they are here to see. Inside the warmth, she waits in the scent of orchids and tobacco flowers. She grasps peasants and princes delighting in all their devotions. Of those who fell into the depths of her, they never to return and she revels in every man lost, remaining poised through the rising smoke of her cigarette.