Flash Fiction -- "Fools' Gold ... Belle"

NOTE:  Published in "Best of Whitesboro Writers" so pulled from WWG/PI blogs!

“Fools' Gold … Belle”
by Miriam E. Waters

A bit of gold dust, a meager reward for her services for a drunken prospector.  Life’s cruel joke, the murder of her husband by claim jumpers, had forced her to succumb to the degradation of life as a lady of the line.

The sounds of laughter, boisterous voices, and the ancient piano filtered up to Belle.  The air in her room was redolent with a blend of unwashed bodies, cheap whiskey, and stale perfume. 

As Belle was secreting away the precious bits of gold, Old Orville entered the saloon downstairs.  He had found a rich vein of gold and come into town to celebrate after months in the fields.  “Barkeep, pour me a whiskey and keep ‘em comin’,” he instructed the man who was happy to oblige.

HenriDeToulouse Lautrec -- "Can Can"

“Where’s Belle?” Old Orville demanded of the proprietor just as she descended the staircase.  Without preamble he caught her up with a whoop and a laugh.  “Let’s head upstairs darlin’.  Time’s a wastin’,” he said.

Once in her room, Old Orville stripped Belle of her dress, corset, and layers of petticoats.  Only when she stood naked before him did he remove his own dirt encrusted clothes.

He ran his callused hand over the smooth contours of her body.   Cupping her breasts in his hands he bent to nuzzle their fullness.  He guided her back until she reclined on the old brass bed.  Without hesitation, he mounted her and penetrated her sex.   Within moments he lay satiated upon Belle’s supine body. 

After a time, Belle extricated herself from Old Orville’s embrace.  Weary in heart and mind, she began to dress desultorily in her saloon frippery.  So many nameless faces claiming my body as their own … how much more can I endure? Belle despaired.

Old Orville had fallen into a drunken sleep.  As he slept, Belle explored the old prospector’s pockets.  She was rewarded by finding a bulging bag filled with the precious nuggets lusted after by the prospectors.  She quietly changed into street clothes and tucked the bag and all of her hard-earned gold into a sturdy valise.

Belle made her escape down the back stairway and exited the saloon through the kitchen.  She found her way to the depot and nightly stagecoach.  When it traveled down the rutted road that led to some far destination, Belle didn’t give the mining town a backward glance. She left the town with her head held high and a bag filled with all of the fools’ gold that she had earned during her time in the life.