Innocence Ends in Avondale - A Chicago Story
That’s it. That word, it pulls up like a tub stopper in her, letting all the old dirty waters drain out. It upsets her deep in her gut where she buries her heart. The Elston house feels disgusting, suddenly, as if she’s been swallowed by a beast. Doomed to dwell in a place where “utopia” is the exact furthest thing from reality.
Attention, Attention Must Finally Be Paid
As I approach my 51st Birthday, of course, I am in full bore self reflection mode and gazing deeply into my own navel with an intensity that borders on mania.
Being an escort for me was like being a scrapbooker on Etsy for most other single moms trying to pick up some extra money. The only difference was that I could make a few thousand bucks for one hour of potential discomfort versus making a few hundred for several hours of suffering through handmade clip art. I’m a pretty open-minded person, but I cannot for one second believe that there is any joy in being hunched over a desk, cutting and pasting other people’s memories together. It seems so lonely and juvenile.