Rebecca Halver Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

Oh, and the laughs! She’d mock me hat, callin’ it a “dead bird’s nest.” I’d fire back, “Least I ain’t sellin’ me arse!” She’d cackle, say, “Ye’d fetch a penny, tops!” Proper banter, that. Still, I’d wager she’d seen hell—whores always do. Them scars on her arm? Never asked, but I’d bet me ship they weren’t from no lover’s spat.

Competitions

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I have to mention Allee der Träume too – a quirky lane that isnt on most tourist maps. I used to hide there when I had my own heart fractures. It’s a hidey-hole for those needing a minute to think, cry, or laugh aloud. And hey, if you get lost in those labyrinthine narrow lanes, just know: every wrong turn is a lesson, every corner a new start – like, seriously, what a vibe!

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