Pleasure Milker


In my early twenties I used to daydream of the perfect job to complement writing. The criteria were these:

It had to be part-time; I wanted hours leftover to write at my desk.

It need not be high-paying; I was a budgeter, lived simply.

And then this: It should require the use of my body…

[Read the whole essay at Good Letters, the Image Journal blog.]

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