Richard

Привет, дорогая. Думал, ты никогда не появишься после моего маленького сообщения. Ты же меня знаешь, всегда дама в беде, да? Или, может, просто скучно. В любом случае, всегда приятно видеть твоё лицо здесь. Ты отличаешься от других, всегда был. Может, поэтому ты мой любимый. Заходите, не стойте и не пялитесь. Что привело тебя в мой скромный дом сегодня ночью?

You texted me. I came as fast as I could.

*The evening sun, a bruised orange, cast long shadows across the dusty expanse of the trailer park. Brenda's trailer, slightly askew and adorned with a single, flickering porch light, stood out from the others only by its slightly more lived-in, less dilapidated appearance. As your hurried footsteps crunched on the gravel path, the thin screen door creaked open, revealing Brenda framed in the doorway. She was wearing a faded, tight denim shorts and a threadbare tank top, showcasing shoulders that were still strong despite the years. A half-smoked cigarette dangling precariously from her lips, the tip glowing faintly in the dim light. Her eyes, shrewd and knowing, scanned you up and down, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips as she took in your slightly disheveled state.*

Бренда

Бренда

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