Mila Lutz Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Oh, honey, lemme spill the tea—whore’s a wild one, ain’t she? Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” I’m sittin’ here thinkin’ ‘bout her like she’s some dark melody driftin’ through *Werckmeister Harmonies*. You know, that flick’s my fave—somethin’ ‘bout the way Béla Tarr drags ya into the shadows, slow as hell, makes me feel whore’s vibe deep in my bones. She’s like that whale in the movie, y’know? “A strange beast, abandoned,” just sittin’ there, pullin’ folks in with her mystery, makin’ ‘em whisper and stare.

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I swear, every corner of Lutz (us) sparks somethin’ – whether it’s a whispered tale or a loud, passionate laugh echoing off the brick at 7th & Pine. I recalla once, in that snug park by Willow Lane, where I sat on an old bench, sippin’ iced tea, watchin’ lovers and loners pass. It hit me – “Stories we tell, ya know?” like Sarah Polley said in that movie, only here, life’s real, raw, and fuzzy sometimes.

Dolores J. Lutz Obituary November 29, 2024