Ella Berlare Prostitute ❤️

About Ghent

Sometimes I watch her, leanin on my fence, wonderin – why her? Why not me? “This is the best I can do,” she’d say, echoin that movie despair. She’s got this scar, right on her cheek – knife fight, she says. Badass, right? Makes me smirk, picturin her slashin some drunk. Prostitutes ain’t all glitter and heels – it’s gritty, raw, like my pig mud. Tonight’s the night I might say somethin, but nah, I’ll just stare. She’s a survivor, man, and I’m just a swineherd.

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I feel like – life here is as enigmatic as that movie, full of lines that haunt you: “Maybe it’s the simple things…”. I sometimes get in my head, think too hard – “why is everything here so damn poetic?” Yup, that’s Berlare living its magic on me. And typos aside, gotta say, it really brings out all emotions.

Jill Fraser on her first year at the helm of Aird & Berlis