The Sting

Sting, The
Trix, an 18-year-old street girl, looms in front of a large graffiti wall that marks her favorite corner. Cars and pedestrians pass by, as the girl lingers. She lights up a cigarette. A car slowly pulls up and a man leans out the window. “Do you want a ride?” He asks gruffly. Giving him the quick once-over and stubbing out her smoke, Trix agrees. “I’m looking for an all- night kind of thing,” he replies coldly. He knows a good motel and they drive off. The clerk closes his book and stares at the couple. Without saying anything, he points to a NO SOLICITING sign beside his window. The clerk looks hard at the girl before turning his eyes back to the man. “Last one’s vacant.” They disappear inside. After a few moments, the office door slowly opens and the clerk steps out, his field book in hand and a gun tucked in the back of his pants.