Room 207

Photographers, artists, poets: show us RECKLESS.

I was meeting him in room 207. The man I barely knew. We both knew what was going to happen. We had planned it, talked about it. I had dressed up. Made an effort with my lingerie. I was nervous but excited. I relished the feeling of crossing the line, pushing my own boundaries. Being young and reckless. I wanted to feel alive. Feel that spark ignite under my skin and run through my veins. I wanted to feel something. Anything. He would do that for me. He promised and that’s why I was meeting him tonight, in room 207.


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