She opened the windows and climbed out onto the balcony. Her house was the one house in the street that had a balcony on this side, looking out on the street, so she looked rather like a dramatic Juliet, waiting for someone to serenade her. Only Juliet wouldn’t have her breasts out in the middle of the day, nor would she smoke half a pack of cigarettes in 10 minutes.
Dahlia sat down against the warm wall and let her dark hair fall over her phone so she could see the screen. Her boss had called a while ago, she noticed. Well, she was too late now anyway.
She lit another cigarette and scanned the houses across the street. Windows, just as light and obvious as hers, but there was no one inside. No one to stare back at her. No one on the street below her to make a fuss about or throw something at. No one to care about her bare breasts.READ MORE