Shirts and jeans litter the asphalt, the empty fabric limbs askew as if they're attempting to escape. Blood smears Sarah's lips as she struggles against the chest of a dirty looking man with a beard. Terror. Terror is the only word my mind can seize on and it forgets what it means. I forget how to think - to move.
But people like the doll guy who sells women and the dog guy who buys women, and other guys who, say, rape women, or maybe don__ go as far as violent rape but treat women like objects instead of people__ure, there__ a difference in the level of crime, but it__ all the same thing, where women become a canvas for throwing emotional baggage, Jackson Pollock style.
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But people like the doll guy who sells women and the dog guy who buys women, and other guys who, say, rape women, or maybe don__ go as far as violent rape but treat women like objects instead of people__ure, there__ a difference in the level of crime, but it__ all the same thing, where women become a canvas for throwing emotional baggage, Jackson Pollock style.
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