"Why is it that no one ever agrees with me?" I finally say in frustration. As a class we discussed a story about a woman who whored herself out to a friend to catch a ride across a river in order to visit her lover (and after she confesses her indiscretion to her lover, he cruelly and promptly rejects her).
Earlier, I called the whole essay "slut shaming."
"That's a good thing," my instructor replies to my question and my obvious, growing irritation, smiling.
I can't tell. Is he smiling to me or to the rest of the class?
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