Money Bags
I’m not surprised when Lillian starts to complain. She lies on the blended leather couch in my basement, her Passionate Pink lips pursed with frustration. Of all her problems, she worries most about the bunching of her sweater and the uneasy shifting of what looks to be a monument of a bra. The way she complains is amusing and annoying, how I’m no different than all the others. She has no idea – I’m nothing like the others. The cuffs she tried on weren’t the fake cuffs I had demonstrated...