Penelope and the Mixer Cat

She stopped to pick up the dollar bill on the street corner. This was a good sign and Penelope believed in signs. The light changed, she walked forward, into the oncoming stream of fish so intent on swimming up stream to spawn and die. One day Penelope would stop this charade, one day she would wake up a star and this moment will never have happened. But the traffic moved on and the taxis never stopped so she just kept on walking, past the curb, onto 34th and half a block down to the small door that held the future and past and every day for the last two and a half months. She hated working at the massage parlor. She hated herself. When her mother called, she told of how the advertising agency was doing so well, how the client dinners were so elegant and expensive, how her latest ad had made them all ready to create a campaign and start shooting in the south of Spain. Mother didn't know. So Penelope opened the door, descended the five steps to the beginning of another night. It was dark and darkness kept the secrets locked deep inside her heart. Penelope sighed. Tonight was starting out so long, so very, very long.