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A Tale of Two Choices by Bassoonist
"This way, my lover," Dark Annie beckoned. Dorothea went nervously with Dark Annie down a gas lit alley way. Sounds were muffled due to the yellow fog enveloping everything, but Dorothea was certain she heard the slow tread of a man behing them.

"Where are we going?" asked Dorothea

"To my lodgings, above the Poxy Goat. You will feel at home there - lots of young ladies like your self."

Dorothea felt comforted; there would be people in her situation. It couldn't be as bad as the workhouse.

As Dorothea and Dark Annie turned the corner towards muffled music coming from an Inn...
a drunken sailor passed calling "Wotcha Annie, when can I visit?"
End Of Story

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