TCLM#112: Paid to slept with a stranger.

"See me at the Clover hotel, presidential suite." 

Like a ruined cassette recorder, the statement of that man kept on rewinding at her mind. It feels more than a language to articulate and express, which is in itself profoundly frustrating. She works through emotions right now by being able to identify her great motherly love and use them as discourse to allow herself to consider that offer. A lot of the time she had spent weighing her decision yet, still left in the dark.

She looked around the twins' private room. There is a melancholic trance in which she becomes completely absorbed in vivid sensory details of what is inside—a bed, a bedside table, and a chair. Their room also has a window that overlooks the crossing road, and a vital monitor or the ECG Machines that record the electrical activity o