Emily Pruszkow Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Katowice

Take this one bird I heard of—Dolly, right? Victorian times, proper legend. Worked the docks, made a killin—literally, some say. Bloke tried robbin her, ended up floatin in the Thames. Little known fact: she kept a pet raven—called it “Sir Peck,” cheeky sod. Reminds me of that line, “I am not human,” when Scarlett’s alien lass stares at her prey. Dolly wasn’t human neither—just a force, mate, a storm in petticoats. Got me laughin thinkin how she’d peck ya eyes out if ya crossed her.

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I like the overall washed effect you gave the piece. Adds an appropriate attutude to the subject, gives it somewhat a jaded feel.

But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I dash into a nearby café, and guess who’s there? The old lady from the bakery! She’s sipping tea, looking all cozy. I’m like, “You again?” She just laughs. “You need to learn to check the weather!”

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