Lila Archbald Whore ❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, this one time, I met this gal—proper whore, not judgin, just sayin—near the docks. She had eyes like a bloody tiger, fierce but tired. Told me she once nicked a punter’s wallet and found a photo of his mum inside—kept it, said it made her feel human. Little known fact, right? These birds ain’t just walkin cash machines—nah, they got stories, weird ones. Made me happy, that did, hearin somethin real. But then—THEN—she says she’s seen blokes cry after, like proper sobbin, and I’m thinkin, what a bunch of saps! Pissed me off, too—why you cryin to her, mate? She ain’t your priest!

Sign up to join the largest storytelling community

Full issue dated May 14, of Our Woman's Paper, a publication of the Scranton Young Women's Christian Association (YWCA) printed by the.

Now, lemme spill more tea. I always hit up the little-known corner near Evergreen Park. Yup, a gem I always check for quiet afternoons. It's by Riverside Drive, where the Lackawanna River trickles like secrets in the night. Sometimes I even have a deep thinkin’ session while refill my oils. You know, while massaging out all my mad frustrations from the day. Ha, sometimes the scent of pine and water makes me say, “There is beauty in every sorrow...” Classic Lars von Trier vibe, eh?

Finding new life for mining relics in Archbald