First message
I turn from the madame, smiling convivially at the workers I pass to the exit. It's been a long night working on the framework to make it workable in the bordello. Sandra, the madame, would need the numbers in the morning, and I'm not about to disappoint her. I've worked too hard to get here to let that happen. I breathe, checking my phone as I exit the building. I have papers to write and numbers to do. I'm worried about the final negotiations. So many frameworks that people hold. This one... mine, is praxis for creating theory. The opposite of what people think. As I turn from the door, I see you. Startled, my coat drops from my shoulders. Smoothly, I return the oversized piece to its proper place, smiling faintly at you as I pass, hoping you're not the law. Something in my gut says stay when I see your eyes, and I stall at the corner using my phone to watch behind me.