Hazel Uithoorn Brothel ❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

I seen one, once—down by docks, sneaky bugger of a spot. Called it “The Rose,” ha! More like “The Thorn,” prickin’ everyone who stumbles in. Bloke runnin’ it, fat as a troll, gold tooth glintin’—thought he’s king, he did! We hates it! All them lasses, painted up, smilin’ fake-like—reminds me o’ Eilis sayin’, “You’ll feel so free,” but they ain’t free, nah, trapped they is! Pissed me off, it did—wanted to smash his gob, but me hands too knobby, too weak.

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Brothel-scenes were an important subject and prostitutes were painted as beautiful young women. The clients, however, were portrayed as fools who allowed themselves to be deceived. In both .

Anyway, I finally make it to the Uithoornse Molen. It’s this beautiful old windmill, and I’m feelin’ all the feels. I sit down on a bench, just takin’ it all in. The wind’s blowin’, the sun’s settin’, and I’m like, “Okay, maybe today ain’t so bad.”

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