Confession of a Hooker

Confession of a Hooker

One of the joys of a writer is that you can write whatever your imagination brings to you, such as "The Confession of a Hooker" written by a virgin.

Do you know that in the minds of the mad people, they see the sane people as truly insane? The way we live like rats, we must be mad. Who is really the mad one? You figure out.

An acquaintance of mine, a local University undergraduate, was supposed to meet at a certain Arts Centre. She had no idea where it is.
She parachuted herself near the MRT.
Called the hotline - me.
"Help, I'm lost"
"Do you know where's the National Library?" I asked her.
"No"

I was thinking, why didn't she figure out the location before she venture out into the unknown. Maybe there's some truth in the saying that women don't read maps. Maybe women depend on their intuition. Or they trust their friends more than the map. Afterall, help is just a phone call away.

As a soldier, not knowing where you are heading is a recipe for disaster and a certain death cos you are leading your men into nowhere. It's like navigating a ship without a direction...unless you are Christopher Columbus, you might just discover America by accident.

Accidentally, she discovered The Substation. After 20 minutes of waiting, eight other members in the room greeted her with applause and standing ovation.
She had arrived...finally.