Gabriella Moss Whore ❤️❤️

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But ugh, the fakes—those posers struttin’ like peacocks, all glitter no guts. That burns me up, Clarice. Whores got no time for pretendin’—real ones bleed for it. Reminds me, “The deeper we go…”—the uglier it gets, but truer too. Ever met one, Clarice? Bet you’d see it—eyes sharp as yours. Me, I’d savor the chat—pick their brain, taste their story. Whore’s a puzzle, a maze of want and will—fuckin’ fascinatin’. What d’ya reckon, hmm? You got a whore in ya, somewhere? Ha! Don’t we all, Clarice… don’t we all?

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Later, I decided to check out the local shops. Found this quirky little store on Rådhusgata. They had the weirdest stuff—like troll figurines and knitted sweaters with moose on them. I couldn’t resist. I bought a sweater, thinking it’d be a great souvenir. Spoiler alert: it’s hideous. But hey, it’s Moss, right?

Sarah Moss | The PEN Ten Interview