Grace Hope Whore ❤️

About Chicago

So, this one time, oh jeez, I’m patchin’ a call, right? Some gal’s screamin’ ‘bout a “workin’ girl” stealin’ her man. I’m like, “Hmm… sweetie, he ain’t worth a dime!” Made me so mad, tho—why blame the whore? She’s just out there, makin’ her coin! Like Eve says, “How can you’ve lived so long and still be so naïve?” Men are the real dopes here, chasin’ skirts like Homer chases donuts. Oof, that burns me up!

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There’s also Vesper River twisting through town. Yup, that babbling river. It cuts across neighborhoods like a scar. Mroe bankside cafes here. On lazy afternoons, I sit and watch couples, intoxicated by their desire. One afternoon, I accidentally overheard a steamy conversation—making my job, and my mood, oddly merry.

Hope's Corner: Acting Out