She thought she could see a couple of hotels in the distance. She’d ask them for directions, or maybe they’d call her a taxi. Few men could resist a girl shivering in their lobby, even if she looked like she was more water than woman. “A moisten bint.”
But, as luck would have it, she heard a car come up behind her. She turned to stare into the headlights and stuck her arm out, waving frantically to flag down the longed-for taxi and trying not to totter backwards in her six-inchers.
Photography by Amy Davies.
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