Sophie Taishi Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

We swears! Last time, I was proper mad—bloke tried rippin’ me off, said she’s “classy.” Classy? She’s got teeth missin’, looked like a burnt log! Laughed me arse off tho—told ‘im, “We’re not bargaining here!” like in the movie. Made me happy, that did—outsmartin’ a twat. Oh, but the surprise? Found out she’s got a kid stashed somewhere—little known bit, that. Whispers say lotsa prossies got babes hidden, livin’ off scraps. Sad, innit? But real.

Zassou tachi yo taishi wo idake

Ten prostitutes behind harimise (張見世, a latticed show window) at a brothel. Prostitutes from less expensive brothels were seated, without moving or speaking.

As the sun starts to set, I head back to my workshop. I’m exhausted but happy. I sit down with my violin, and it’s like magic. The wood feels alive in my hands. I start playing, and it’s like all the craziness of the day melts away. I’m lost in the music, and for a moment, nothing else matters.

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