“Hypocrite!” she thought. “You avoid my eyes and do not see my shame as I take your crumpled notes. And tomorrow, when you pass me on the street with your wife on your arm, you will look away and pretend you do not see me. But know this, hypocrite. Each time you violate my body you kill another piece of my soul and bring me a little closer to my personal dystopia. It is a terrifying place, a hell from where there is no escape for I am a single mother and I sell my body to feed my children.”
"Classic"
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