Athena
“Please, can I get food?” I asked weakly as I leaned on the counter where a waiter stood. It was an overcrowded mini-cafe.
“We don't run charity here, Miss or Mrs. You pay for your goods,” the man replied harshly and busied himself instantly.
“I don't have money, but if there's anything I can do in exchange,” I pleaded.
He shot me a worrisome glance, gazing at me from head to toe before responding,
“Did you check the signboard out there? We don't run a strip club here either. We accept nothing less than money. If you don't get the hell out I'll…”
I didn't wait for him to complete his statement. I left, roaming around the street in search of food. I found a beggar by the side of the road and requested a penny. He pointed at my dress,
“Give me that and I'll make it a dollar not
