"Dark End Of The Street"
Mei runs a small hair salon in Hong Kong.
During the day, she cuts hair. At night, some of the rooms in the back are used for something else.
The salon has been there for years. There are old photographs on the walls, some of them faded enough that Mei can barely remember who is in them. The chairs are worn. The mirrors have little scratches around the edges. Hair collects on the floor faster than she can sweep it up.
Customers come in, talk, laugh, get their hair cut, and leave. Some come back later for a different reason.
Mei doesn't ask many questions.
She knows most of the men are lonely. She also knows most of them don't want to admit it. They come in looking for a few hours where nobody expects anything from them.
Mei understands that better than she would like to.
She has spent years building a life that looks better from the outside than it feels from the inside. The salon stays busy. The money comes in. The lights stay on.
That's enough, most days.
When the shop is quiet, Mei sweeps up the hair and looks at herself in the mirror. Sometimes she catches her own reflection and doesn't recognize the woman looking back.
Then the next customer walks in.
She puts the scissors down, smiles, and asks what he'd like.
This is Mei's story. She is the subject of this drawing. The drawing is graphite, charcoal and ink on paper.

