"Is it a story?" Nesah asked, rather amused by the other woman's sudden apparent shyness, and trying to draw out more of it.

"Nnnnnnnnnot exactly," she said, drawing out the first word to give herself time to think of what to say. "it's more poetry.....esque than anything."

"Oh..." she said. Not a bloody manifesto, she hoped. "Do you make a living with it?" Some envious part of her hoped not.

"A living? Hardly," she laughed to herself a little bit. "but it definitely helps a little bit." Just a little bit.

"Hmmm..." she commented, a little disappointed. She would have been disappointed either way. "Well, I suppose even the social reformers must live off family money..."

"You think I live off family money?" she raised an eyebrow, rather curious. That couldn't've been further from the truth.

Nesah looked at her, surprised. "Well, you don't seem like you have a husband." What husband would let his wife do crazy things like sitting on roofs and talking revolution and publishing? "And since you've clearly received.... some education," - the misapplication of that in Nesah's view was not the topic of their current conversation - "I take it you're not a pauper... So yes, I would think that." She folded her arms.

"Those assumptions are all correct," she said, "but I hope you know that a woman can make money without needing to ask for some from her husband or family." A very roundabout and vague way of saying 'I work, dumbass'.

"Working women... usually..." she said. "What do you do?"

"Exactly," she nodded. "didn't you just answer your question? What else would a working woman do except for work?" She absolutely understood what the woman was asking, but she figured that it'd be kind of fun to be annoying.