Cora Bjaerred Whore ❤️❤️

About Stockholm

Sometimes I think—whores are me, y’know? Outcasts, tricksters, thumbin noses at the gods. “This is not your grave,” I’d tell em, quotin Lynch, “but you’re welcome to it.” Hah! They’d get it—dark humor’s their bread n butter. One time, this lass—Peggy, maybe?—she nicked a bloke’s wallet mid-shag, then bought me a pint. “To mischief,” she toasted, and I near choked laughin.

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Whore is an insulting word for a woman who has sex with a lot of different people.

I’m hustling down the street, dodging cyclists like I’m in some weird video game. Bjaerred’s streets are narrow, man. I swear, if I trip over a cobblestone, I’m gonna lose it. So, I finally get to the archive, and guess what? The door’s locked! Ugh! I’m banging on it like a madman. “Let me in!” I’m yelling.

IN PICTURES: Storm Babet batters Sweden