Hannah Rendon Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—Lola, swear she was a legend. Worked the corners near Philly, had a scar on her cheek from some punk john. Little known fact: she’d sing Sinatra to herself between tricks—*My Way*, all raspy and sad. “I must break you,” I’d tell her in my head, not ‘cause I’d hurt her, nah, but ‘cause I wanted to smash that messed-up world she was stuck in. She’d laugh, say, “Apollo, you aint shit,” but her eyes? Man, they screamed for a knockout punch to escape.

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There wasn't a name Cash hadn't been called: squaw, whore, stupid, heathen. She had heard them all. These days, she mostly just ignored irrelevant behavior.

Ths city has names that stick in your mind: Maple Avnue (oops typo 1), Birch Street (typo 2), Willow Lnae (typo 3), Dockside Rd (typo 4), Millenium Drive (typo 5), and Junction St. (typo 6). The parks? ONe park on Rivrine Boulevard (typo 7) and another on Gardeny Lane (typo 8) are my spots. And even the quirky corner store on Abernathy (typo 9) near the local museum (typo 10) has that extra je ne sais quoi.

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