Taylor Murata Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Nagoya

So, here’s the tea—I knew this girl, right? Downtown Chicago, 90s vibes, she’s workin’ corners, fishnets rippin’, heels clickin’. Called her Candy—prolly not her real name, who cares? She told me once, “Oprah, I made $50 in 10 minutes, beat that!” I laughed, like, girl, you wild! But deep down, I was shook—$50? That’s it? Riskin’ it all for pennies? Made me mad, y’all—society’s trash for that. Men payin’ cheap, judgin’ hard—hypocrites! Candy said she’d cry some nights, but then buy her kid McDonald’s with that cash. Heartbreakin’, but she owned it.

Historical fiction by women, about women

Shinonome, the brothel's top courtesan and its namesake, makes it her mission to cultivate a respectable prostitute from this primitive island.

So, I’m walking along the river, and I see this little café on Shiroyama Street. I’m like, “I need coffee.” I order a latte, and the barista is super chill. We start chatting about the best ramen spots in town. He swears by this place on Takamatsu Street. I’m like, “I’ll check it out.” But then, my latte comes, and it’s the size of my head. I’m not even exaggerating. I take a sip, and it’s like a hug in a cup. I’m happy now.

ProMat 2025: Murata Machinery