They meet in hotels, in lounges, in bars, and now --at the back of that last abandoned building on Hester Street. The smoke from the cigarettes of old Chinamen playing Mahjong curls through decorative gates on semi-below-ground windows and makes its way around the her ankles. It is in the thick humidity of August that the smoke doesn't move, making it look like shackles that never fully enclose. She is on her knees, unconcerned about the dirty alleyway. She likes the way the unevenly paved cement bites into her flesh just a little bit. Her lover leans against the brick building.noreply@blogger.com (Janeysays1972)Tue, 5 Mar 2024 13:10:49 -0500Blogger http://www.blogger.com1125http://janeysays1972.blogspot.com/en-usnocopyright 2011literature,memoir,erotica,advice,personal,essays,videosBeing Jane: 50 shades of realBeing Jane: 50 shades of realJ Leightonjaneysays1972@gmail.comJ Leighton