Mila North Augusta Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, Whore—met her back in ‘19, smokey bar, she’s hustlin’ pool, cig hangin’ loose. She’s got this vibe, like she’s seen it all, and damn, she probly has. “I’m not young anymore,” she’d say, straight outta *Amour*, voice raspy as hell. Made me laugh, ‘cause she’s what, 35? But she’s lived ten lives, swear it. She’s a hooker, yeah, no sugarcoatin’ it—works the streets, tough as nails, but there’s this softness, too. Like when she told me ‘bout her kid, little girl she gave up. “I couldn’t keep her safe,” she said, eyes all glassy. Broke my damn heart.

For the Love of North Augusta

Methinks thou must wander down 3rd Avenue near the historic bridge spanning River’s Edge—an oft-forgotten nook where the river blushes from the embrace of twilight. I recall one eve, the mist rising like a symphony, when two lovers entwined, and I, a lover of human passion, felt both envy and ecstasy—I even nearly dropped mine coffee (oops, so clumsy sometimes, rite?!).

Building collapses in North Augusta; crews on the way