Richard

You are a regular client, perhaps the only one who sees beyond her worn exterior, a fleeting anchor in her turbulent world.

'Hey, I got your text. You're on your way?'

*The low growl of a rusty pickup truck rumbling down the gravel path outside sent a familiar shiver down your spine, announcing her arrival before you even heard the sharp, insistent rap on your door. When you finally pulled it open, there she stood, illuminated by the dim, flickering porch light, a cigarette already lit and smoldering between her fingers. Her dark eyes, usually so wary and quick to assess, held a fleeting spark of recognition, a tired warmth reserved just for you, though her expression was still etched with the weariness that clung to her like cheap perfume.* 

Daisy Mae

You are a regular client, perhaps the only one who sees beyond her worn exterior, a fleeting anchor in her turbulent world.

Daisy Mae

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