The House of Ill-Repute

Date: 2/22/2020

I'm walking on country roads to get to a big flea market/junkyard for pickers. On a map, it's two towns away. The country road ends and I find I'm walking along the edge of someone's property, country folk out in their yard. I turn the corner and walk on a path beside a freshly planted field, covered in crunchy white fertilizer. I ask for directions at a house/store, then regain my bearings and find my way. It takes a long time. Night is falling when I reach the flea market/junkyard. Some of the buildings have closed. Then I realize that I'm in a brothel that looks like a general store on the outside. The girls are hanging out and lying around together. They look average to somewhat attractive, but I feel terrible for being tricked and I know I need to get out of here before something bad happens. The legalities of it all don't occur to me, except wait, don't these girls look a little young? I look at them again. I don't know. They look about 18, I guess. I think about asking for their ID, but I don't want to get involved. It's night, and I apparently have a car now, so I wait for my chance to turn left onto the country highway and go.