I find myself writing on my patio (which is not uncommon) at nearly 1:00am... and I'm in the pitch black. My neighbor, who Neil and I have suspected is a prostitute for quite some time, has stumbled up the stairwell across from me, and I have since turned off all my lights in hopes she won't invite herself over. She always tries to share a glass of wine with me. But, I'm confident - on this night in particular - that she won't try and invade my space, as she had an older man in tote as she ascended the stairwell with to her apartment.
WHAT???????????
I know I've always assumed she was a prostitue, but WHAT? This woman has been to my apartment and I've heard most of her life story. Is she really a prostitute? I think so now. And, I think it's affecting me the most, because I didn't really think this was the case with her. I knew she was a bit trshy, yeah. But, come on. I'm shocked.
And stunned. And paralyzed. I'm a girl from the South, and I've never seen prostitution first-hand.
I'm just waiting for him to emerge, really. I can't even leave this black hole, or even think about the crazy things I have lying ahead of me in the next month in general...because this is so unreal. Will he emerge shamed, or will he come out smiling?
I must see it out...
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