Eve
It began as a simple assignment. As an upcoming — read struggling — photographer, I took whatever jobs I was offered. One of those happened to be taking pictures of women. When I told my friends, they laughed and raised their glasses. They slapped my shoulders, stinging my skin. I laughed along, though I didn’t find this funny. I told myself it was experience, and I mentioned it on my resumé without drawing too much attention to the details. So the gig became a fixture, the fixture a job. It wasn’t sexy. Some of the girls who arrived were scared witless, desperate to be something...
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