Lucy Levin Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Christchurch

Then fall hits—“Leaves drop, hearts grow heavy…”—brothel slows down. Girls sittin’ bored, paintin’ nails, waitin’. Winter? “Cold binds the soul…”—place feels like a ghost town. Creepy, empty, like a set from some artsy flick. Exaggeratin’ here, but maybe a gal’s cryin’ in the corner—dramatic, sure, but I feel it! Breaks my heart, doll. Wanna scoop ‘em up, give ‘em cocoa, say, “You’re enough, sweetie!”

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The best of all possible brothels - S. Levin-Richardson The Brothel of Pompeii: Sex, Class, and Gender at the Margins of Roman Society.

I’m grumbling to myself when I bump into my old school teacher, Mrs. Thompson. She’s like, “Oh, look who it is!” I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” But she’s actually super nice. We chat for a bit, and she tells me about the new library on Queen St. Apparently, it’s got a whole section for graphic novels. I’m like, “Sign me up!”

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