Anna Magherafelt Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leeds

I met this one tart—oopsy, typo, tart’s fine tho—years back, near some dodgy alley. She had this scar, right across her cheek, said some punter glassed her. Made me mad, y’know? Like, who does that? I’d have gutted him, Hannibal-style—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” Tasty thought, eh? But she laughed it off, said, “Part of the gig, love.” Tough as nails, that bird. Reminded me of *A Prophet*, that line, “You’ll see what I see.” She saw the world’s filth and kept goin’.

Magherafelt, Londonderry

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Not just a drizzle, but full-on torrential downpour! I’m sprintin’ for cover, dodgin’ puddles like I’m in some kinda obstacle course. I duck into a wee café on the corner of Queen Street. It’s cozy, smells like coffee and fresh scones. I order a cuppa, and the barista’s got this wild hairdo. I mean, it’s like a bird’s nest! But she’s super friendly, and we start chattin’.

Roadworks carry on at Magherafelt and Maghera in the week ahead