Penelope Sagara Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

But gods, the bastards they deal with—makes me angry, that does. Drunken sods, pawin’ at ‘em, promisin’ gold then leavin’ piss-all. Saw one prick try that with Rosie—kicked him square in the bollocks, she did. Laughed my arse off! Surprised me too—thought she’d just take it, y’know? Nah, she’s scrappy. “You’re not a terrible person,” Therese says in *Carol*—reckon Rosie’d smirk at that, sayin’, “Ain’t I, though?” She’s a survivor, mate, not a saint.

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Prostitution is not fun at all! The pain, guilt and loneliness a woman goes through behind that closed door is indescribable.

So, I’m munching on my onigiri, walking down the street, and bam! I trip over a loose tile on the sidewalk. Classic Sagara, right? I mean, come on! Fix your sidewalks, people! I almost face-planted into a puddle. That would’ve been a great start to the day.

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