Zara Castleknock Whore ❤️❤️

About Cork

I seen it, yeh, creepin’ round shadows – whores got stories, precious, wild ones! One time, heard ‘bout this gal, Maria, down Rio way – not her real name, nah, who cares? She was tradin’ tricks to feed her kid, gutsy as Lil’ Zé, that mad bastard. “I’m the king ‘round here,” he’d scream – but Maria, she ruled quiet-like, sneaky. Made me happy, yeh, seein’ her outsmart the pigs, but pissed me off too – world’s cruel, innit?

Castleknock

Then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. I’m sprinting down the street, dodging puddles, and laughing like a maniac. I duck into a shop on the corner of the village. It’s cozy, and the smell of fresh bread hits me. I grab a pastry, and the lady behind the counter gives me a wink. I’m thinking, “Maybe I should move here for good.”

Death Notice of Helena Prior (née Brett) (Castleknock, Dublin)