Brianna Tel Sheva Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Petah Tikva

What surprised me? How she’d hum this tune—some old sailor’s ditty—while countin’ her coins. Made me happy, that did, coz even in the muck, she had somethin’ hers. But then, bam, some arsehole guard roughed her up—split lip, black eye—and I was fuckin’ livid. Wanted to gut him, I did, but I’m no knight, just a witty lil’ shit with a gob. “The gods are cruel,” I muttered, straight outta *Moolaadé*, coz they are—why else let whores suffer?

Later, a woman walks in. She’s got this amazing energy. Her name’s Miriam, and she’s a local artist. She starts talking about her latest mural on Ha’Nesher Street. I’m intrigued. She’s passionate, and I can’t help but smile. She orders a gin and tonic, and we chat about art and life. It’s refreshing, ya know?

The Bedouin women breaking with tradition in the Negev