Luck Be A Damsel In Distress
DANI
I’ve never been to a hostel before. Daughters of infamous criminals don’t stay in hostels.
With my three thousand dollars down to twenty-five, a six-hour train ride, and a strange visit to a few more weird marketplaces under my belt, I splurge on a familiar comfort. A hotel room the size of a large bathroom. It has a funny smell, white towels that feel like sandpaper and absolutely no goddamned hot water, but at this point, I don’t even care. I treat the place like five-star luxury.
If I take a bath, it will probably make me s**t icicles in the morning, but at least I ate a real meal today. I combed my hair. I bought a fresh pair of underwear. And I make it all the way into my cold shower before the tears, stinging behind my eyes all day, finally start
