Sarah Tain L'hermitage Whore ❤️

About Nice

But—ugh—some stuff burns me. Cops hasslin’ ‘em, like they’re trash. Or pimps—slimy jerks—beatin’ ‘em down. Saw Jenny with a black eye once—nearly cried, man. She shrugged, “Part of the gig.” Tough as nails, that one. Reminds me of Varda’s potato lady—bent, but still growin’. Whores got stories—secret ones. Like, didja know medieval whores had guilds? Fuckin’ unions, man! Badass.

After that, I needed a breather. So, I headed to the banks of the Rhône. The view? Stunning! The river sparkled like diamonds. I sat there, strumming my guitar, just lost in the moment. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, kicks a soccer ball, and it smacks my guitar! I was like, “No way, man!” I thought I was gonna lose it. But the kid just laughed and ran off. Kids these days, right?

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