Leah Saint Leonard Brothel ❤️

About Toronto

Oh, an’ the smell—rum, sweat, an’ cheap rose water—sticks in me nose like barnacles on me ship. Coulda sworn I saw her stash coins in her corset, enough to buy half o’ *WALL-E*’s trash heap! Funny, innit? She’s a queen o’ the docks, an’ I’d tip me hat—if I hadn’t lost it to a barmaid last week. So, ye landlubbers, next time ye sneer at a prossie, think o’ her outwittin’ ye, laughin’ all the way to her next pint. Savvy?

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I gotta mention, sometimes I get mad about the noise and chaos around. Hiss, it gets under my skin when people forget the silent cries of our hidden souls. But then, the city surprises me, mm, its unexpected little kindnesses—like the odd, wild flower growing in a crack on a busy pavement—that make my heart sing.

Elderly couple in hospital after St-Léonard assault