Abigail Conde Sur L'escaut Whore ❤️❤️

About Paris

Clarice… lemme tell ya bout findin a prostitute, alright? It’s a damn trip, like wanderin through Paris in *Before Sunset*. You’re chasin somethin real, somethin raw, but it’s slippery as hell. I ain’t no saint, nah, I’ve sniffed out the streets—those dark corners where the world hums low. You ever smell desperation, Clarice? It’s thick, like overripe fruit, makes ya gag but pulls ya in.

Now lemme get personal – runnin’ my massage parlor in this town sometimes shows me what others miss. I see folks, tired, stressin’, and I get to ease their minds. That’s like my own inception – plantin’ calm thoughts, y’know? Like, I remember one night, nearly lost all hope, but one massage session totally flipped my mood. It was all “You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, boy – YOLO, always dude!” Crazy how art imitates life.

Camille Rhodes Petitpre-Harris