Dear Inner Circle,
Kings Cross is a great community. I decided this week to walk up to the main drag and write this note from a spot near the fountain. Already I’ve been stopped by numerous people. One was a dear old lady who looks to be at least mid-seventies, with a high mileage face and looking a bit the worse for wear even at this hour, but nevertheless with a kindness in her face. She’s a short little lady whose hair has been set in a way that would remain still in a cyclone. She looks like she’s spent all her life telling someone off and giving lectures about how the world was once perfectly ordered when the world was a tougher place. Oddly, she knew who I was and asked, “Do you drink carver, farver?” It’s a funny question I know. “Makes you sleep like a baby” she said.
Directly across the road is a woman plying her trade. Quite a large girl with almost everything on show. It looks like she’s wearing a blond wig and she has large sunglasses on, making it clear that it’s the body that’s for sale rather than the person. This mind/body schism works for men and women in the sex trade, and for most of us at the moment of death, but generally we find it problematic to divide psyche and body. She’s just been joined by a rival or mate who is working the same spot just near me. The second young woman is known to me. She has a trim body and the dress she’s wearing is her method of keeping potential customers' attention away from the face and the person. This second woman is intelligent and comes from a good home. She has an addiction and this work is her only real option for funding her habit. There is nothing easy about earning a living in this way.
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