Megan Ochtendung Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Berlin

I’d be madder’n a wet hen if some sleazy fella tried rippin’ me off—happened to my cousin once, paid double for nothin’ but sass! “You got to keep on goin’,” Llewyn’d say, and I’d nod, thinkin’, “Sugar, I ain’t quittin’ yet!” I’d sashay up, all Southern charm, askin’, “Hon, what’s the goin’ rate?”—prolly butcher the lingo, too, ‘cause I’m me, y’all!

Puffs in Ochtendung

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Everywhere I go, I notice those little imperfections, the noise in the silence. I talk to the trees, the stones, even the wind almost whispers, “You merely adopted the dark!” I shoot my bolts of wisdom like Bane, strong but measured. Yeah, life here sometimes feels like a smudged painting—rough, erratic, but damn beautiful in its scars.

Marianne Vogt, Salem, Ohio