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I’d storm in, all “I choose violence,” if they haggled too much. Once saw this pimp tryin’ to stiff a girl—skinned his hand with my dagger. Blood everywhere, hilarious. “Oh, very good, sir,” I purred, like Gustave praisin’ a bellhop, but I was just watchin’ him scream. Hated pimps, slimy cunts—worse than whores. Least whores got guts.

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I get all jittery and excited runnin’ my spa. It's wild how people's stories come in sweaty bundles every day. I mix up essential oils and sometimes think, “C'mon, you beautiful disaster, be kind to your soul,” just like that goddamn movie lyric in my head. It’s a mad, twisted blend of hope and heartache.

19-year-old stabbed after car crash leads to conflict in Woonsocket