Every day that passed, Rose asked if a letter came from Kathleen. With growing desperation, she watched what little money she had disappear. Forced to...choose between eating and lodging, she went hungry. She lay awake at night, weak from hunger, worn from worry, trying to ignore her fleabites and the constant rattling cough of a nearby child. The cellar air was sickly; every breath Rose took was already inhaled and exhaled by a score of other people. With only a few cents remaining, the letter. My arse was sore, stretched and tender as I moved about the kitchen, nervously contemplating what he had planned for me.He was out on the patio where I served him and stood in silence.He ate the sandwich that I had made him and relaxed back in the chair taking in the view.After about ten minutes, he signaled to me to lay on the table in front of him, on my back, arms above my head and legs spread.I obeyed, the cement table was cold as I clambered up, lying on my back and spreading my legs at. More

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