Evelyn Sambiase Whore ❤️

About Florence

Now, I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ bout my fave flick, *The Turin Horse* – Béla Tarr’s slow as molasses masterpiece. Ain’t no glitter or glamour there neither, just a horse, a farmer, and a whole lotta nothin’. Kinda like “Whore,” it’s got that heavy feel, ya know? Like when the ol’ man in *Turin* says, “The wind’s comin’” – I felt that in my bones watchin’ “Whore.” That puppet gal, she’s stuck, wind blowin’ her life to bits, no way out. Made me madder’n a wet hen – why’s she gotta suffer like that? Animation ain’t s’posed to be this gloomy, right?

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But then, my phone rings again. It’s my mom. She’s like, “Did you pay the bills?” I’m like, “Uh, yeah, totally.” But I didn’t. I forgot. So now I’m stressed. Thanks, Mom!

ROCCA, Francesca