I know it's a sin to kiss and swallow; a random prose

Wish granter. Dream maker.

I fulfill your every desire.

I've been called many names, Jade is only the most recent. I'm one of dozens of girls in this city, bright eyed and bushy tailed. The sweet girl you pass on your way to class, the young businesswoman at the bar drowning her sorrows, the angry feminist at the rally. I can be anything. I can be your's, her's, his'...

But only for the night.


We could go into my history but let's cut the crap. I'm just one sad story, one washed up immigrant who was searching for a new life, a better life. Hardly original now am I? But isn't this the city to do it in? Isn't Toronto /the/ Utopian of Canada. An escape, a new start, a way to make my own way.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that kid.

Sure, I may be a little rough around the edges. A little too forward, a little too brash, a little cold hearted. Sassy if you're kind, bitchy if you're not. Again, there have been many names, none that I'm too attached to.

Slut.

Tramp.

Bitch.

I wear them like flags of honour as I wink at your boyfriend and his cocky smile. I shrug them off as I flick my hair, dust myself off after a futile verbal sparring round. We're not going to be friends, I've long acknowledged that. We're not going to be on friendly terms, we won't smile over coffee or pretend to care about the tedious mundane tasks that make up our lives. There will be no play dates, no air kisses, no obligations to show up at each other's weddings.

You're arrogant enough to believe that he's your's and only your's. That's all I need. That's all I want.

You may think that I'm selfish.

I am.

You may think that I'm arrogant.

I am.

I don't fool myself like humans, I don't sin for six days and play saint on the seventh. I don't go to spiritual retreats or try to eat, pray, love my way to a better life. I don't write a cheque and believe that covers the blood on my hands. I don't watch Oprah, I don't have a therapist on speed dial and more often than not, I see my friends for what they are: amusing, trivial past times as I buy, beg, steal and blackmail my way to what I want.

A little cocky you say? But what could you expect from a demon?

It's the 21st century after all and sin is the new black.