Chapter Two

As I held onto that aging card, I thought of my mother's house. Before the house been demolished, it had been located on Muskateer Drive, not five houses away from this card's address. And whenever I think of my mother I can't help thinking of her line of work. Mama had been a whore, plain and simple.

I had been five years old when I caught my mother in the act, during one of her nightly sessions. I can still hear the sounds of bed springs squeaking and animal grunting.  As I peaked through the keyhole, watching something I knew I shouldn't be seeing, my opinion of my mother changed forever.

Back in the hole-in-the wall hotel room, I stood up, dropped the yellowing address card on the dirty blanket that covered my tiny bed and walked towards the sink. As I stood at the mirror and stared at my reflection.....