Esme Le Passage Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

Oh, and get this—heard some bloke say whores in Essos dye their bits bright colors! Red, blue—like a bleedin’ rainbow down there! True or not, I dunno, but I’m imaginin’ it now, and it’s fuckin’ hilarious. Me, I’d rather burn ‘em all than join ‘em, but that’s just Cersei, eh? Cold disdain, that’s me—watchin’, judgin’, sippin’ me wine while they rot. Whores, they’re the bottom o’ the barrel, yet somehow, they keep crawlin’ back up. Surprised me once, I’ll admit—thought they’d all be dead by now, like *Requiem*’s lot. “It’s not over!” they’d cry. Oh, it is, sweetling—just wait.

Le Passage

The Whore is a novel that revels in its flesh, not for its own sake, despite the title, but in order to glean the deeper meanings of human experience.

Over in Le Vieux Quartier, the cobblestone streets are perf. I literally get lost in the layers of history. I remember one time, while driving my pickup, I heard a street musician playing on Place du Rêve, ugh, it made my day so much. That vibe is like, so timeless. There’s a local bakery, La Dolce Vita, on the corner of Rue du Soleil that smells like, literally, heaven.

Les passages les plus secrets de l'est de Paris