Sarah Odemira Whore ❤️❤️

About Funchal

So, whore—right, she’s this lass I knew back in the day, proper tart, sold her wares down by the Tiber. Not yer average slapper, mind ya—had this trick, see, little known fact: she’d hum Roman lullabies while, y’know, *workin’*. Customers loved it, said it was like screwin’ a siren. Made me laugh, that—fuckin’ surreal, innit? But it pissed me off too, cos she’d nick coins from yer pouch while hummin’. Sneaky bitch! “What is the truth?”—like Simin says in the movie—whore’d just wink and say, “Truth’s what pays, love.”

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As the sun starts to set, I walk back through the streets. Odemira is so pretty at dusk. The colors are insane. I’m feeling all reflective, you know? Like, life’s crazy, but it’s also beautiful. I think about the old dude, the kid, the kayaks, and the sardines.

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