She feared being forced to bundle up her little girl and go back out into the cold.For the tenth time, Holly counted the change in her hand. It wasn�...t enough even to buy a stale donut, and she silently wept. Across the street, the strange man on the wooden box watched and listened to her crying.Touched by her plight, he might have intervened, but just then Holly heard a gentle voice, “Would it be all right if I sat on the other side of your booth, Miss? All the others are taken and I would so. “Ok, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Go talk to Vinny,” Amber said, pointing to the stage manager. Vinny was what you might expect in a stage manager for a burlesque house. He was in his 60’s, beer belly, silk button-down shirt, gold chain, half-eaten cigar, and hair slicked back with enough oil to see your reflection. “I want in,” I said to him as I walked up to him at the bar where he was cashing out the night. “No, you don’t, Dorothy.” That was my nickname because I was from the Midwest and. More

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