Sarah Whitemarsh Island Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Now, “Requiem” vibes kick in—“It’s not happenin’, and it’s makin’ me nuts!”—that’s her, stuck in this loop, tradin’ skin for survival. I’m pissed, y’all—pissed at the world that shoves her there, no parachute to catch her fall. But damn, she’s tough— tougher than me battlin’ wildfires. Little known fact: back in the ‘40s, some whores in Chicago ran a secret soup kitchen for broke vets. Ain’t that wild? Ruby’s got that spirit—grit mixed with heart.

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ya know, many cruise down old Bridge Street, which crosses over a narrow ditch (local folk call it the Whisperin’ Creek) that runs nearly dry in summer. Crazy, but kinda cool, like an inside joke. Several hidden murals decorate the brick walls near 3rd Avenue. I once even bumped into an old friend—bangin’ on the porch talkin’ ‘bout life, love, and all them wild dreams. Dang, memories, man!

Paul Edwin "Ed" Walton