Sherenna's Text Service
Sherenna was on her way out to meet a few potential friends for drinks—friends she worked hard to keep in the dark about her life predicament. Hoping for a rare, pleasant evening out, the all-too-familiar chime of her husband’s text message interrupted her thoughts.
“Apples Cafe: 6pm - 8pm: Cleaning,” the text read. Sherenna’s heart sank. She knew she had no choice but to report. By now, Jasmine, the worker at the cafe, would have already transferred the £10 fee to her husband.
The arrangement was simple: £10 for any job. For Jasmine, it was an easy decision. Sit on her phone for two hours while Sherenna did the work, and Jasmine still made £20—£30 paid, £10 passed on. And as always, Sherenna got nothing.
Sherenna fumbled with the bowl of water and rags, the edges of her dress catching dirty food from the tables she wiped down. She dreaded the thought of canceling her evening plans but knew her appearance was a problem. Could she show up in a stained dress and disheveled state, praying no one noticed? Or would tonight be just another plan she had to sacrifice?
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