Fine Line.

Someone has a point to make.

In broad daylight. At dusk. At 3:00 AM. Business as usual takes a turn for the worse.

A quick glance. An outstretched arm. Their pleas are cut short by the flash and the momentary deafness brought on by a gunshot at point-blank range.

Call it a heat wave—an occupational hazard. Who knew owning a brothel puts you on the endangered species list? Someone has a point to make, one well-placed bullet at a time.

Where desperation meets desire and neon paints the night, the fine line between sex and violence gets easier to cross every time you try. Nothing says "I'm not yours anymore" like putting a bullet in the head of somebody who deserves it.

The sign says ABIERTO. The door is always open. Your prints are all over this.

No touching. No kissing. No disrobing. One position. Condom mandatory. Extras. Cost extra.

The killer tells you what it's like to look down a barrel and pull the trigger.

You didn't ask to be a witness.

You chose to be an accomplice.

BACK.

It hurts. It costs. La máquina no da cambio. MORE.