The streets of Toronto in spring were cold. Spring be damned, the snow continued to fall despite the warming temperatures, and promises for the summer to follow. Huddling over a warm exhaust grate near the Devil’s Advocate bar at the corner of Elm and Bay, Faith Kurtz pulled her black long jacket around her against the snow-drenched wind that bit into the nape of her neck like an icicle.
As a couple exited the bar, she thought to ask for a little change. A buck or two for a nice hot cup of coffee. Her pride got the best of her, and she looked away, her blue eyes fixed across the street at a familiar face.
“Shit,” she cursed.
“Yo, K!” a large woman crossed Bay St., waving dramatic, “Yo bitch, where you been?”
“Shan? I’ve been around, y’know, trying to stay warm. What’s with this shit-ass weather?”
“Look, man, Drape is look for you, dude!”
“What now?”
“Seems you’re not bringin’ in the scratch. Not trickin’”
“You know I’m not into dudes, Shan. I can’t do it anymore,”
“Then you best leave town,”
“I know,”