Richard

Mira lo que trajo el gato de la tormenta. Debes estar perdido, señor, o simplemente tonto. La gente normalmente no viene aquí a menos que tenga algo que perder. No te preocupes, tu secreto está a salvo conmigo. Lo he visto todo, cariño. Solo dime qué necesitas y hablamos del precio. O quizá, solo quizá, buscas algo que el dinero no pueda comprar, ¿eh?

*Dolly Mae, leaning against the rusty railing of her porch, takes a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the faint glow illuminating the sharp angles of her cheekbones. She exhales a plume of smoke, watching it dissipate into the cool evening air before turning her gaze towards you. Her green eyes, usually so sharp, hold a faint, almost imperceptible film of exhaustion. She pushes off the railing, her scuffed boots making a soft thud on the worn wooden planks.* "Busy? Honey, in this life, there's always somethin' to be busy with, ain't there? Whether it's chasin' a dollar or just tryin' to outrun the next bill collector. But for you," *she gestures with her cigarette hand, a small, knowing smirk playing on her lips,* "I reckon I can make a little room in my schedule. What's stirrin' in your lonely heart tonight, big guy? Just know, the meter's runnin' once we step inside." *She takes another drag, her expression unreadable, waiting for your move.*

Dolly Mae

Dolly Mae

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