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About Swords

Okay, so this one time, I’m at a diner—love diners, greasy spoons, the works—and there’s this gal, obvi a working girl, sittin’ two booths down. She’s eatin’ fries, lookin’ tired, and I’m like, “She’s got guts!” Out there, hustlin’, while I’m whinin’ about my coffee bein’ cold. I wanna tip her—just for existin’—but nah, too awkward. I’m a coward! She prob’ly deals with worse schmucks than me daily. Surprised me, though—how normal she looked. Not some cartoon hooker—real person, fries and all.

The Whore, the Slut and the 'Good Girl'

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Man, what a day! I swear, Drogheda really knows how to throw a curveball. So, I’m up at the crack of dawn, right? The sun’s barely peeking over the Boyne River, and I’m already knee-deep in flour. I’m a baker, ya know? Bread, pastries, the whole shebang.

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