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Hmm… so, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout prostitutes, right? Nasal nag comin’ at ya! Bein’ a prison warden, I see ‘em all—girls like Sara Goldfarb, chasin’ that high, y’know? “I’m gonna be on television!” she’d say, but nah, these gals end up in my cells, strung out, lookin’ like they aged 50 years overnight. Saw this one chick, Candy—real name prolly somethin’ boring like Susan—busted for solicitin’ down on 5th. Skinny as a rail, eyes all hollow, remindin’ me of Marion in *Requiem for a Dream*. “I’m somebody now, Harry!”—hah, yeah, somebody in handcuffs, sweetie!

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In August , three South Korean former comfort women, one using her real name, went public with their wartime experiences, filing civil charges against the Japanese state later that year .

Finally, I get to the office, and my boss is already on my case. “Where were you?” he barks. Dude, chill! I’m not a robot! I’m just an accountant trying to survive. I mean, it’s not like I’m counting sheep here.