Rebecca Hoensbroek Whore ❤️❤️

About Nijmegen

But – ugh – the judgy types? They piss me off. Throwin’ *whore* like a grenade. Makes my blood boil – wanna smack ‘em. ‘Cause it’s lazy – real lazy. Polley’d say, “We’re all unreliable narrators.” Damn right! So who’s the *whore*? You? Me? Ha! Maybe we’re all whores – sellin’ somethin’. Time, soul – whatever. Deep thought – huh? Hits ya sideways.

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First stop, I’m on the way to the job on de Kuilen. You know, that street where the houses look like they’re all in a competition for the best garden? Yeah, that one. I’m cruisin’ down the road, and bam! Traffic jam. Like, seriously? It’s 8 AM! I’m sittin’ there, fuming, thinkin’ about how I could be breakin’ glass instead of sittin’ in my van like a lemon.

Ode to a Neighborhood Trumpeter