MayMetMo 2020 #7: Sand for Desire

Her suitors would come in droves passed the dunes to her temple in the desert.  They would bring their paltry offerings and beg her unceremoniously for her hand, and her time, and her body, and her wisdom, and would breathe their hot slimy breath in her direction lamenting all they’d been through as if it was owed to them, a portion of her time.   Leading them back into the temple where she would place all their offerings upon a large pedestal glowing in the moonlight, and they too would stand atop it, while she would pretend to consider all they had wrought and offered to her.   Then, with a sudden and dismissive wave of her wrist, the pendulum would swing outwardly, and the press would come down upon them, rending the treasures and trinkets and then men into a fine dry paste indistinguishable from the desert sand all around the temple outside.  The wind would take the sands out the windows and scatter them across the floor, another drop in the vast desert where all others had come before.