Invisible Women

Thin Women 4

The woman down the hall is a whore. At least we think she’s a whore. That is not meant to be an insult. It is simply her profession. She entertains men of all types at all hours. We hear her moans crack through our walls, her deep sighs.

She is a pretty woman, and we don’t know why she chooses to live her life this way. Surely she must be attractive enough to find herself a nice man to provide for her so that she wouldn’t have to do this anymore. Surely one of her Johns could fit that bill. Her Johns are not disgusting men. They all wear suits and ties, have styled hair, and trimmed nails. They never have slime under their nails. Most often, her Johns are good-looking men, and we wonder why she never has repeat customers. Surely she must be good because she has a steady stream of clientele, but they never come back. Or at least we believe that they never come back.

We try not to judge the woman down the hall, but it is hard. It’s impossible to understand why she lives this way, this woman who is never short on wealthy men with their clean-lined suits. All we can think of is that she must be a little thin on morals, that somehow, this is what she wants, this lonesome existence.

When we try to volley conversation with her, her voice is too hoarse from all that moaning and we resent that. We try our best not to judge her morality, if only she could find the decency to preserve her voice for us.