I Am Getting Kicked Out Of A Short Story

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“I’m getting kicked out of the shelter.” It was three in the morning when she called. I stood in the pale yellow light of my garage as I heard those words fall softly from distant lips. “What do you mean, Tera?” I asked, “How can they do this to you?” I stared at the oil slick that had developed on the concrete where a car was usually parked. Quietly I began to panic. “I don’t know,” she lamented as she nervously breathed into the receiver, “I just started working for Mindy. I won’t even get my first paycheck until I’m done training three weeks from now.” She was alone in New York City, where she’d been staying in the battered women’s shelter in the South Bronx. “If Dick finds out I’m here, he’ll kill me. Literally, Dakota, he’ll track me …show more content…

“If we can handle the Marine Corps, Dakota, we can sure as fuck take New York City,” she’d said to me once before. I was already scheduled to take the NYPD entrance exam this coming month. A small group of us were all going to be a happy little brood of Marines with guns in the big bad city. I guess I’ll be headed east a bit earlier than expected. I wondered what it would be like. Tera had told me of times when Mindy had taken her out for cocktails in posh lounges throughout the city. “She’s such a cool lady,” Tera would say about Mindy, the sex therapist, “She could tell I was nervous when I first started training for her, but she made it a point to personally guide me through my induction.” Reluctantly Tera admitted that her internship was as a surrogate for Mindy’s sex therapy clinic. “You’re not mad?” she asked. “Why would I be mad?” I assured her. “Dakota, you’re the only one who knows this. I just, you know, I didn’t think you would take it so well. Not even my sister knows what I’m doing out here,” she quietly confided, “If I can do this for a few years, I can eventually start my own sex therapy practice.” “That’s what I want to do,” she continued, “If I can help people work through their issues, that’s what would make me happy.” She’d tell me of manuals that instructed her on the proper methodology of a surrogate. “One exercise involves holding the client’s flaccid penis in my hand and talking to the him. Now, if he starts to develop an

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