The Contact

This desire would remain nothing more than a pipe dream, until one evening, just like the rest, spent in bed jealously scrolling through other women's social media wishing she had their bodies, Rose received a text message from an unknown number. Assuming it to be just another scammer or telemarketer, Rose was quick to assume nothing of the message, but a quick glance at the first few words of the sentence proved this was different from the bots she was expecting.

"I know what you want most. I can help... for a price. Call me for more details. I'm expecting to hear from you.”

Rose blinked abruptly, dumbfounded at the mysterious and ominous nature of the message, but was intrigued if anything to go along with an elaborate prank.

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?”

Rose replied facetiously

"Don't kid us both, you're a woman who has everything, a great job, a nice place, good health. But still, you harp on your one superficial flaw. Your breasts. Come see me here and I can help”

The mysterious person on the other side of the screen attached an address. Inner city, Rose was unfamiliar with that part of town. At an all-time low of self-esteem and an all-time high of desperation, Rose took the mad risk and copied the address into her phone's GPS, set it as a reminder for the next day, and responded back.

"OK. I'll see you there after work tomorrow, call it 6 pm. Try anything funny and I'll end you, I know judo."

Rose bluffed unconvincingly but to no hesitancy of the messenger.

"Excellent, be on time”