Damian could just make out his features. Haggard eyes and creased face. Careworn and old beyond his years. It was the look of a man gazing upon the pr...mise of endless solitude. Damian recognized it. He’d seen it in himself often enough. ‘Abby?’ The woman stiffened at the sound of his voice, closing in on herself. ‘Abby? What’s wrong?’ ‘Nothing, George. Nothing.’ ‘Who are you talking to?’ ‘No one!’ George lingered at the doorway for a moment as though frozen by her icy tone and then silently. I was only seventeen years old when I first became a prostitute. An underage, you might think right yeah, and I really was immature and babyish then. Being a streetwalker during night is not something I foresaw myself doing and pulling off zealously and laboriously in my forthcoming days; it is something that befall and hit me—suddenly, abruptly, and all out of nowhere.The night before she made it clear as regards what my life was going to be; Tawny was ravishing and enchanting in a silk brown. More

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