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About Drogheda

Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” After, I’m leanin on the wall, sweatin, thinkin—why’d I do this? Same reason I carve violins—cuz I *need* to. She’s countin my cash, smirkin. “You’re a freak, strings.” Yeah, Candy, I am. Walkin away, I’m hummin *Brooklyn*’s theme, feelin alive. Prostitue hunt? Success. Night’s still young.

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Then, outta nowhere, this woman storms in. She’s fuming, right? Turns out, she’s got a raccoon coat that’s seen better days. I mean, it’s practically falling apart. She’s like, “You better fix this, or I’m gonna lose my mind!” I’m thinkin’, lady, it’s a raccoon coat, not a family heirloom! But I keep my cool. “Sure thing, love. I’ll work my magic.”

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