A young woman walked along a dreary rain soaked street with her arms folded tightly round her waist, willing her onwards against the prevailing winds. Her head was fixed in a determined bow so that her dark eyes could but gaze upon the cold, gum-spattered pavement below. Only after a second empty cigarette box had idly foddered past did she finally allow herself to look up and face the harsh reality of were she was headed. From this point the end of the road was already in sight and she could even see as far as the spot where the path before her disappeared round the stony wall of a large, boarded up house. The horrible vision of that macabre old house stood waiting for her at he end of the row like a leaking omen suddenly had her stiff in her tracks. For she knew as soon as she turned that corner she'd be on the most damnable street in town, Dirk Street, patrolling depot for the local hookers and home to many a desperate woman. She stood motionless for a few moments simply staring at the ominous path in front of her, her feet welded to the ground and her arms now wrapped so tightly round her delicate middle that her entire torso began to ache. The very though of degrading herself in such a way made her want to cry, want to run back to that grimy flat and hug her little boy forever, but deep down she knew that wouldn't stop them from being evicted come morning. So she released her suffocating grip and with it took a long, deep breath allowing her hands to drop lifeless at her sides. Then, slowly but surely, she began to move forwards in weary demented sort of walk, her shoulders slouched yet her head defiantly held upright. As she drew closer to that dirty old abode, she began to wonder how it had come to this. Twenty two years old with a four year old son etching out a meagre existence in what seemed like the saddest place on earth.

She rounded the corner and immediately saw them, women, some forty of them, immediately of all ages, shapes and sizes yet each one of them laced with that same unmistakable look of misfortune. There they stood, against the weed pocketed wall, with their pouted lips and provocative poses, praying for the next lusty man to drive by and show them some interest. From a distance you could almost be betrayed by their fetching smiles and alluring winks but up close it was plain to see how well their hardship had manifested in those tacky, low-slung tops and bawdy plat-formed heels. The smell of vodka and cheap perfume riddled the air and whole scene fell before her in such a savagely carnal manner that all she wanted to do was shut her eyes and get this hideous night over with...

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