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About Swords

Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Hate the pimps tho, slimy bastards. Leechin off desperation—makes me wanna puke. Happy tho when I see em fight back. Like, fuck yeah, you go girl! Prostitutes got stories, man, wild ones. One chick said she met a senator—swears it. Secret life, double life, all that jazz. Sarcasm time: oh yeah, real noble profession, huh? But nah, seriously—surprised me how deep it gets. “Just tell me you’re mine,” Carol begged. Prostitutes don’t get that luxury, do they? They’re everyone’s and no one’s. Kinda sad, kinda poetic. Anyway, that’s my rant—prostitutes, *Carol*, all mixed up in my head. Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.”

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After that, I’m wanderin’ around the streets, and I hit up the market on the Main Street. It’s packed! I’m dodgin’ people left and right, and I spot this stall with the best homemade jam. I’m talkin’ strawberry, raspberry, you name it. I grab a jar, and the lady behind the counter is all smiles. “You’ll love it!” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Lady, I’m already in love!”

Residents frustrated by lack of footpath in Enniscorthy