Ultima Project: Saving Faith

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,”

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