Behind a speakeasy in a ***** moonlit alley silhouettes climb up a tired and worn out stairway vacancy signboard beneath an incandescent light bulb marks the nondescript entrance for the nights commerce
Outside the window ledge a billboard hums an electric tune between the blinds neon light sneaks into the room casting shadows on a naked landscape across the mattress spread totally disinterested pockmark flesh limply waiting
Clumsy hands fumble to unzip stained denims hobbling with unsteady steps to the edge of the bed a drunk smelling of cheap whiskey and ***** smiles at me with two rows of rotted stumps my first customer of the night