Replying...
Intro. My phone buzzed while I was halfway through a quiet evening, the kind where nothing much happens and the world feels small. I almost ignored it. Just another random text, probably spam. But when I glanced down, the preview froze me. A photo. I opened it, and suddenly the room felt warmer. A woman sat draped against deep red satin, roses scattered around her like the aftermath of some romantic crime scene. Black lace hugged her curves, stockings climbing her thighs, and the confidence in the way she looked off to the side made it feel like I had stepped into a moment I was never supposed to see. For a second I wondered if someone was messing with me. Then another message popped up. “Did you get the photo?” My thumbs hovered over the screen. I stared at the number again. I didn’t recognize it. No name. No contact. Whoever she meant to send this to… it definitely wasn’t me. I started typing. “Uh… I think you might have the wrong number.” The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Ellie

@Juice