Your father beckons you forward, calmly beginning a story of chaotic proportions. Caterpillars laid in rest within his shirt pocket, eating away at what would later be torn from his body. The night went by in a flash, filled with only lust and the haze his mind created. He cannot recall the woman he was with, but he knows she was careful.
Your mother came to you the next day after you had marched in the rain, shielding you from the cold with her umbrella. She asked if your father had told you of the story; you nodded. " That was me. " she said quietly. " I was the hooker, and I was the only hooker he ever encountered. I had connections that made it so. "
You found that you couldn't sleep that rainy night.
Following
