Makayla Walden Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Oh, but the rage, precious! Some blokes, they’d hit her, leave her bruised – “Who do you think you are?!” I’d hiss at ‘em in me head, clawin’ the air. Hated that, made me wanna bite somethin’. She’d shrug, tho, tough as old boots, sayin’, “It’s the game, innit?” Game?! More like a bloody cage! Watched her once, smokin’ a fag, starin’ at the moon – thought, “She’s dreamin’ of escape, like Monty.” Maybe she was, precious, maybe she was.

Walden Schmidt

There is drumming and drumming. The Whore of Babylon has lost, Death has won and drums her away. The Whore spits and carries on and drools and screams: 'What's.

Lexington horse trainer looking for long-shot win while carrying a heavy heart