Prostitute

Chapter 3 Wednesdays 23rd Birthday

"Auntie! Auntie Mae where are you?" Shouts out Wednesday as she walks into the apartment and puts down her seductive bag of clothing. She shuts the door behind her and begins to walk to Auntie Maes bedroom. The floor in Maes bedroom is wooden and creaky, when Wednesday walked in the creaks came crawling in. Mae lay on her king sized bed with pink sheets keeping her warmth to herself. She snores loud but that doesn't bother Wed. Wednesday prefers writing with a little noise to keep her motivated. She walked towards Maes study desk and sat in the brown chair. There was papers and 2 notepads. Wednesday grabbed a pencil from the container and started writing on the piece of basic white paper.
The next morning.
The smell of delicious cooked blueberry pancakes and crispy bacon in the morning was a delightful gift Mae had prepared specially for Wednesday for her 23rd birthday. When Wednesday woke up from the smell she completely forgot about her birthday, instead when she got up to greet Mae. Mae Hugged her and handed her the birthday breakfast.
"What's all this for?" Wednesday says confusingly while looking up at the apartment ceiling seeing balloons and down was rainbow coloured confetti. "It's your birthday silly! Don't tell me you forgot." Mae explains while resting both hands on Wednesday's shoulders. Wednesday rolls her eyes "my birthday was a month ago. You know, the one you forgot to surprise me for?" Wednesday says in an annoying tone, while pushing Mae away. "Uh aren't you 23?"
Mae explains in confusion. "22, gosh you don't even remember my age!"
Wednesday says while walking to the front door. "No, I'm pretty sure your 23 now Wed. Just ask the old guy at the register." Mae says in a certain expression, as well as crossing her arms and putting one eyebrow up and the other down. Wednesday looks at Mae confused and certain she's still 22, though she turns her back and walks out the apartment door.
Wednesday rushes down the stairs while sliding her hand down the rail.
She encounters the man at the register and asks in a rush, "I'm 22 right sir." Her hands pressed down against the table and a messy ponytail that swings back and fourth. "At an age like mine, I cant tell what age you and your girls are now." Chuckles the man at the register. "Right..." Wednesday whispers under her breath.
The removes her hands off the table and tightens her ponytail one last time before leaving the apartment building.
She drives in her car in distress. She couldn't understand what age she was now that people kept on assuming. But that didn't matter, she was in desperate need of a real job now that she lived in New York. A realestate agent perhaps? Or maybe a designer. Ugh I really need to find one!