Leave with Milena

We walked down the corridor and into the changing area. It surprised me that Milena dressed so modestly in real life. It wasn’t a burka, but it was clearly designed not to show much of her skin or body shape. She even covered her hair in a headscarf.

When she saw my surprised face, she just smiled a knowing smile. “I dress the way I want, and behave the way I want. These clothes are as much my choice as my actions in this club.”

I was going to ask more questions, but realised her simple statement had answered them all.

We walked to her small car parked nearby. Her speed of walking wasn’t affected by her fake leg at all. In fact, most people wouldn’t have any clue she had a prosthetic limb, due to her clothes and walk.

“So,” she said to me, once we were both sat in the unmoving car. “You could give me your address, and I’ll drive you to your house. Or I could drive you to mine. Your choice.”

I looked at her for a moment. I remembered her soft lips, and the way she smelt like incense and firewood.

“Yours” I replied with a smile.

Fin.