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About Aalst

Lemme paint ya a picture—imagine this chick, right? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt short as hell. Reminds me of that line, “The wind carries spirits.” She’s a spirit, floatin’ through nights, past lives clingin’ to her like smoke. Worked this corner by my old place—called her Ruby, no clue if that’s real. Didn’t care. She’d wink, I’d laugh, like, “Girl, you wild!” Once told me ‘bout this john—dude paid her in quarters. Quarters! 50 bucks worth, jinglin’ in a sock. Laughed my ass off—creative bastard, tho.