Ms. Bloody Twain

Ms. Bloody Twain

Ms. Bloody Twain

I have been in the writing business for so long. I don't just write for advertisements, interests, and the monthly income which runs very scarce. I almost saw everything in life. A guy shot in the head, a robbery across the streets, a lovely couple agreeing for a divorce, a limousine stretched 24-meters long, name it, I wrote it. It was just recently though that I saw the purpose of my writing. And this is not for money.

About a week ago, I was interviewing an Asian escort in New York for a research I was working on for the month. I was at the end of everything and it was running smooth. From the very beginning of this career, my projects ran smooth. The NY Asian escort told me that one of the Asian escort NYC girls loved to write and she does it on a spontaneous basis.

What she said has always been a clich for us who write. Then, something interests me. She told me a story about this unique New York Asian outcall working girl. According to my interviewee, among all the Asian Escort NY ladies, Shayne is the only girl who reads Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer by the great Mark Twain. I am the biggest fan of Mark Twain like the 5 million people who read Twain.

It doesn't stop there, though. My interviewee told me that my prospected girl also slits her wrist whenever she finishes a chapter. I also have some fascination, a hunger veritably for that matter, on blood. You know, when it's dripping from the warm wrist or throat then like droplets of an astonishing drizzle on the floor. That really sets my mood about this concubine.

Since I was in town, I have decided to force my interviewee to hook me up with Miss Bloody Twain. At first my interviewee was reluctant. She agreed though after some pleading.

I met Shayne that very night. She was wearing a black sweater, a tight leather black jeans, and high heels. We dine in a, well, diner. She ordered steaks with mushrooms and gravy. When I was about to sip on that mug of coffee with a steaming white translucent smoke escaping, she rolled her sweater up to her elbows. The scars welcomed my eyes. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't count the crisscross slashes.

I asked her how many times she read Huckleberry. She said more than the usual reading. She told me there's ecstasy both in reading Twain and pouring blood on the floor. I agreed sincerely. She gave me a small preview of what about to come for the next meeting I'm looking forward to. She recited lines from Tom Sawyer then cut a line on her thumb's epidermis.

Shayne said she'll see me today for a business meeting. Unfortunately, it won't be happening. She got married yesterday. That's my story.

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