Sex
February 20, 1987 – The Party
We stand on a dark ally in front of a shiny black
door bathed in the golden light of a Victorian street
light.
A plaque on the door reads, if you didn’t call don’t knock.
The setting is so theatrically dark and mysterious I have to laugh
Mark knocks twice, then three more times: the door swings open,
and we enter a cavernous dungeon.
It’s a party of mostly middle-aged men and women.
A Cautionary Tale of Sexual Cybercrime: The Fight to Reclaim my Name
When we deny the story, it defines us. When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending.