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About Lille

*Ominous pause* I am your father. Her eyes, tho, tired, ancient. Like that scene, endless plains. “Where’s the body buried?” she’d ask. Movie line, but her twist. Meant her dreams, long gone. Made me sad, man, heavy. She’s funny too, calls johns “space cadets.” Cracked me up, dark humor. Once tricked a dude, kept his watch. “Time’s mine now,” she grinned.

Ambiguity. Walking the streets in public spaces

Prostitution (La prostitution) Albert Besnard ( - ), etching in black on laid paper, cm x cm Credits: Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam What is it?

Upon wandering its quaint rues like Rue du Moulin, thou shalt find magic in each cobblestone. I once ambled by the ancient mill – a relic of yore – and felt as if time itself had whispered secrets unto mine ear. Truth be told, I got so mad when I tripped on a loose stone, haha, but it lent a laughable twist to my path!

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