Sugar Momma
Julia sat, a little pit of anxiety settling in her as she waited on her sofa, looking at her book but not really reading it, too far gone in her own thoughts to take in in the words written on the page. She glanced instead to her side, out the window. Past her own reflection the view it offered was to most, simply breathtaking, but it, as with most things for her, had steadily lost its charm over time. She owned the prestigious penthouse suite of a luxurious high-rise and the view at night, out over the smaller blocks and bustling streets below was nothing short of stunning, watching the lights move, the tiny shuffling ant-like figures of people as they went about their lives, it made her feel as rich as, well, she was. …