12 months ago I had just started going through a gradual and gruelling break up. 10 months ago I started working as a call girl. I was 18 years old and still in school. The best was that I was living under my Muslim family's roof. On one particular day I was with a client about 17 miles away from home in a part of London I had never been to before then. My sister called me at 6pm to ask where I was and I told her I was "less than half a mile away dropping my Muslim friends off at their homes because their parents want to make sure that they're not lying when they say they're with their friends -- their parents don't trust them." I got home an hour later and she didn't suspect a thing.
This is the summary of one of my very favourite memories. The longer story shall come on a day I remember to write it! Until then, ciao for now.
