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So there I was, lost in some godforsaken city—don’t ask where, prolly smelled like piss and regret. Needed a guide, not for mountains, but for... y’know, *company*. Streets twistin’ like that faun’s maze, eyes everywhere, judgin’. Found this lass, right? Skinny, eyes like Ofelia’s—haunted, but sharp. “Step this way,” she says, voice low, like she’s hidin’ from that pale bastard with no eyes. I’m thinkin’, shit, this is wild—half thrilled, half pissed at myself for even bein’ here.

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up .

Ya know, I can't help but drop in personal thoughts—even though my style is super erratic sometimes. I get excited, I get mad, and yeah, I even overthink the silly stuff! Honestly, it’s like a movie—random, raw, and real. I might even pause mid-thought (oops, sorry, brain freeze!) but that's art, baby!

By the Book: Elaine Allard :: Libraries