She stayed opposite me. I felt terribly awkward. Was it the difference in age? A 47 year old man and a girl of twenty? Not really... but could I explain to her.... Marika approached me. We were both intimidated. "Do you want...?" she began... I gestured a "No". She did not seem surprised by the attitude of this rather disconcerting customer.
"I came to talk..." I murmured, "...with you. I don't want to... to..."
"...to sleep with me?" she said while smiling
"Yes... or rather, no... " I said sitting on the bed. She sat down next to me.

We spoke for a long time. She was Hungarian, a student in French. A part-time prostitute to help pay for her studies since her parents, having only just enough to live on, did not have the money to "support" their eldest daughter through her studies. Marika was writing a thesis on French poets of the early 20th century. At which university? In Hungary? In Romania? She did not wish to reveal such details. I did not insist. Having learned that a poetry festival was going to taken place in S---, she had made her way there, had borrowed this poor wretch of a room from a friend in order to better "devote herself to this food-earning occupation"-her own terms.