A Certain Hunger

by Chelsea G. Summers

I found Italy an interesting place to be a young American woman. I rather enjoyed being objectified. I like it when men look at me as if they want to devour me. I find it deeply entertaining. It becomes annoying only when they start talking, as if I’d have any interest in anything that comes out of their mouths.

Our female friends, the close ones, are the mini-breaks we take from the totalitarian work it requires to keep up the performance of being female.