Babylon's Burning

There’s Eurodisco designed to send you mad, and the strip lights blinking and strong, cheap air-freshener. Behind the glass she sees the men leering or cowering in the dark cubicles, faces grim beneath the ultra-violet. Now and then they slip a 100 crown note through the flap beneath the windows for a quick feel before she pulls away and they scuttle back into the dark.

Later Veronika watches the Englishman soaping himself in the shower. She can still feel him inside her but he is hard to distinguish from all the others of the night. Instead better think about the shift nearly over, the job finally done. She’ll soon be in her own bed, drifting off as the sun rises. She counts the notes and put them in her bag, takes a swig of the mineral water and slips into her robe. She avoids the mirror because of the harsh light, and waits for him to dry off before she gets in to wash the shift away. While she waits she lights a cigarette from the packet in his jeans hanging off the chair, swaps her Bic lighter for his gold one then drops the jeans on the floor.

Eventually the Englishman leaves after a bit of small talk. When she’s finished her shower she dresses, zips up her boots, rolls up her copy of Blesk and stuffs it down under the mattress, then lights it with her brand new lighter. She watches as the flame catches and the newspaper glows then burns red-blue, picks up her bag and walks along the dimly lit corridor. A line of red lights hovers above the doors. She doesn’t bother to check if the other rooms are empty, but the exhausted girls have mostly gone, and any left will have plenty of time to get out. The two bouncers are watching something on the portable TV in the kiosk when she hands over less than the takings, the security cameras switched off as usual. She knows the smoke alarms are fake. The shaven-headed Ukrainian one takes the cash without looking at her. She tells them nothing about what she has started. They will probably go up in it, she thinks, but that was ok.

She walks away and doesn’t look back. She heads for the non-stop bar across the street from the sex-park and orders a beer, then sits by the window near the electronic dart board as the snow begins to fall heavily. She can’t help laughing to herself, and it isn’t long before there is a warm, flickering glow behind the red blinds opposite.