Elise Worcester Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About East London

Lemme tell ya, I scoped some corners once, back in ’89. Chicago, cold as hell, steam risin’ from grates. This chick, “Candy”—real name prolly Susan—rockin’ fishnets, shiverin’. I’m like, “Girl, you freezin’ for what?” She laughs, says, “Gotta eat, big man.” Pissed me off—system’s trash, leavin’ folks desperate. But she had grit, ya know? Reminded me of Irene in the movie, holdin’ her own. “A guy can change anything—his face, his home…”—but Candy? She wasn’t changin’ shit, just playin’ the game.

'Brothel' raid in Worcester - two suspected prostitutes arrested

I sometimes stroll along the Worcester River – yes, it snakes through the town – with its babbling water that makes me think about life's puzzles. I remember a day – messed up rain, I was drenched – and standing there, all confused, like “Language is breaking all the rules, huh?!” The river then just laughed at me – figuratively, of course.

Harry Wilson's play of the day at Worcester