She resembled the Mona Lisa. The shape of her lively honey brown eyes. The fullness and curve of her lips. It almost seemed Da Vinci painted her instead, a spitting image they call it. I could not believe my eyes, I was looking at My Mona in the flesh. She smiled like she knew what I was thinking. Her name was Theresa though, and I had one short evening with her. I only paid for 5 hours until she had to leave me in my misery and be with another man. This was her job but she will always be My Mona.