Layla Dunmore Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Happy? Hell yeah, when she flips off some creep hasslin’ her—pure gold. Surprised me once, told me she reads poetry between tricks. Poetry! Can ya believe it? “My body is my prison,” she said, straight outta *Diving Bell*. Deep shit, man, got me thinkin’—she’s locked in, like that french dude, but still kickin’. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d bet my last buck she’s screwed more suits than I’ve fired.

~ Poets Pub

In late 's and early 's there was a body of murdered prostitute found rolled up in a carpet dumped in the swamp that was never fully solved. In mid s body parts of male turned up .

Oh, and the Quagmire River (yep, that’s real, my friend!) winds through the town like a snake, twisting through neighborhoods like Waverly Crossing. Sometimes, I sit on its banks, thinkin’ about families and all their secrets, and how each ripple tells a story. I often wonder, “Is it the water that heals or just our hearts, my precious?”

UPDATE: Police investigating homicide in Dunmore