Charlotte Auby Whore ❤️

About Montpellier

Hmmm, a shepherd I am! Whore, you say? Twisted, dark, it gets. Like in *Inglourious Basterds*, ya know? “That’s a bingo!” I’d shout. Whore’s a word, man—gritty, raw. Oldest job, they say, huh? Back in medieval times, whores—sneaky they were. Hid in taverns, secret codes n shit. Pissed me off, tho—kings taxed ‘em! Greedy bastards, always are. “You magnificent bastard,” I’d mutter.

she never cared

Basil is sixteen when he sees Sunny again. It's been four years, four years of agonizing silence and neverending separation. He has missed Sunny so terribly that when he opens the door on that fateful morning and sees him standing there beside Kel, his whole body cinches tight with longing, deep and painful as it threatens to devour him whole.

I remember this one time (srsly, I was about to flip my hair in frustration!) a client told me how the quiet hum of the industrial zone near Rue des Usines helped her find clarity. I laughed, cuz each soundscape here is like a secret code. Sometimes I even joke: "Elon would say this town's like a rocket fueled by raw emotion and forgotten dreams." Yeah, total meme material!

Rev. John R. Auby | Obituaries