worth a gamble then I don’t know what is.”
It strikes me as sad, now, to be sitting here writing about her as though she were real, as though she still was. Sadder still that in all honesty I have yet to fully
comprehend that she is not, and that there will come a point when I will have to leave this room and conduct myself in a world where Eve is no more; where she ends with the stained sheets I send to
a comforting stranger some miles away; a fading memory; a hollow sound said so many times it becomes a dead weight on a numb tongue.
Nobody’s mother.
Nobody’s daughter.
So long as I keep writing it’s as if she’s here. But one day I will have to stop. And then what will there be? Nothing. A space where once something went. How can a person just
cease? Where exactly do they go? It’s enough to drive anyone insane if you sit down and think about it. I find more and more that this is the main problem with our arrangement, Jonah. Our
heads are such lovely places to exist in that real life can’t help but come as disappointment.
She told me that she’d been working there for almost two months by that point. Having fled an unfortunate situation with little more than a bottle of bourbon and a spare
bra to her name it was the first place she came upon which required no identification and paid cash in hand.
“It’s easy to hide when you’re a different person each night. Aint that right, Prudence honey?” she said as a black beauty brushed past.
“That’s the truth,” said Prudence with a celestial boom.
“Just look at Alice over there,” she said pointing to a leggy redhead performing the splits in front of a drooling Baskerville of a man. “This time last year she was chopping
breezeblock for a living and answering to Carl.”
I giggled at the sight of Alice, now bending backwards and exposing a scattering of shaving rash as Prudence strutted off behind one of the curtained doors.
“That over there - ” said Eve, pointing to an immaculate and enormous man at the most prominent table, “ - that’s who we all call Kingpin. I’m still the new girl so
I got nothing to base this on, but he’s big around here. Been gone on some important business since I started but now he’s back. We’re putting on a real big show for him tonight I
can tell you. Miss Jemima arranged it herself.
“Who’s Miss Jemima?”
“If Kingpin’s the head then she’s the heart of this place. Been here longer than time and it shows, poor darling. She was good to me though. Taught me the tricks of the trade
and one or two others. She keeps an eye on us girls,” Eve said, draining her beer. “You ever think of dancing?”
I blushed and lit a cigarette. “God no. I wouldn’t know where to start. I have trouble stepping out of the bathtub without falling over, let alone making one of those greased up
sticks my own.”
“I don’t believe that for one moment. It sure was nice to meet you, Verity. You staying to watch us dance?”
“Why not,” I said, feeling somewhat obliged.
“Well isn’t that just fine!” Eve threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. “I hope I see you around. I got friends that are few and far between these days.”
“I know that feeling,” I said, stubbing my cigarette into the marble cup on the bar. “Good luck up there.”
“I don’t need luck, darling, I got my mother’s tits and no shame.” She gave her decorated rear a wiggle as she tottered off into the darkness.
The half hour before the show began seemed to grow more and more intense until the entire bar could have been popped by one careless open flame. Suddenly I felt awkward, alone
and out of place. I pulled apart a napkin and lit matches in the palm of my hand. I blew out my candle, relit it, blew it out again and relit it one final time, deciding that a gentle glow may look
more enticing to prospective company. I craned my neck to see if anyone might take me up on my silent offer, suddenly desperate for
It strikes me as sad, now, to be sitting here writing about her as though she were real, as though she still was. Sadder still that in all honesty I have yet to fully
comprehend that she is not, and that there will come a point when I will have to leave this room and conduct myself in a world where Eve is no more; where she ends with the stained sheets I send to
a comforting stranger some miles away; a fading memory; a hollow sound said so many times it becomes a dead weight on a numb tongue.
Nobody’s mother.
Nobody’s daughter.
So long as I keep writing it’s as if she’s here. But one day I will have to stop. And then what will there be? Nothing. A space where once something went. How can a person just
cease? Where exactly do they go? It’s enough to drive anyone insane if you sit down and think about it. I find more and more that this is the main problem with our arrangement, Jonah. Our
heads are such lovely places to exist in that real life can’t help but come as disappointment.
She told me that she’d been working there for almost two months by that point. Having fled an unfortunate situation with little more than a bottle of bourbon and a spare
bra to her name it was the first place she came upon which required no identification and paid cash in hand.
“It’s easy to hide when you’re a different person each night. Aint that right, Prudence honey?” she said as a black beauty brushed past.
“That’s the truth,” said Prudence with a celestial boom.
“Just look at Alice over there,” she said pointing to a leggy redhead performing the splits in front of a drooling Baskerville of a man. “This time last year she was chopping
breezeblock for a living and answering to Carl.”
I giggled at the sight of Alice, now bending backwards and exposing a scattering of shaving rash as Prudence strutted off behind one of the curtained doors.
“That over there - ” said Eve, pointing to an immaculate and enormous man at the most prominent table, “ - that’s who we all call Kingpin. I’m still the new girl so
I got nothing to base this on, but he’s big around here. Been gone on some important business since I started but now he’s back. We’re putting on a real big show for him tonight I
can tell you. Miss Jemima arranged it herself.
“Who’s Miss Jemima?”
“If Kingpin’s the head then she’s the heart of this place. Been here longer than time and it shows, poor darling. She was good to me though. Taught me the tricks of the trade
and one or two others. She keeps an eye on us girls,” Eve said, draining her beer. “You ever think of dancing?”
I blushed and lit a cigarette. “God no. I wouldn’t know where to start. I have trouble stepping out of the bathtub without falling over, let alone making one of those greased up
sticks my own.”
“I don’t believe that for one moment. It sure was nice to meet you, Verity. You staying to watch us dance?”
“Why not,” I said, feeling somewhat obliged.
“Well isn’t that just fine!” Eve threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. “I hope I see you around. I got friends that are few and far between these days.”
“I know that feeling,” I said, stubbing my cigarette into the marble cup on the bar. “Good luck up there.”
“I don’t need luck, darling, I got my mother’s tits and no shame.” She gave her decorated rear a wiggle as she tottered off into the darkness.
The half hour before the show began seemed to grow more and more intense until the entire bar could have been popped by one careless open flame. Suddenly I felt awkward, alone
and out of place. I pulled apart a napkin and lit matches in the palm of my hand. I blew out my candle, relit it, blew it out again and relit it one final time, deciding that a gentle glow may look
more enticing to prospective company. I craned my neck to see if anyone might take me up on my silent offer, suddenly desperate for
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