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17. The waitress

Athena

“Please, can I get food?” I asked weakly as I leaned on the counter where a waiter stood. It was an overcrowded mini-cafe.

“We don't run charity here, Miss. You pay for your goods,” the man replied harshly and busied himself instantly.

“I don't have money, but if there's anything I can do in exchange,” I pleaded.

He shot me a worrisome glance, gazing at me from head to toe before responding,

“Did you check the signboard out there? We don't run a strip club here either. We accept nothing less than money. If you don't get the hell out I'll…”

I didn't wait for him to complete his statement. I left, roaming around the street in search of food. I found a beggar by the side of the road and requested a penny. He pointed at my dress,

“Give me that and I'll make it a dollar note.”

“Do you have spare clothes?”

“I've got a coat if you surrender your earrings.”

I had no choice. I was starving to death. It became clear to me that I was in the human community. But, the exact name of where I
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