Paisley Colinton Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

So, this one time, ‘bout five years back, I’m runnin’ the elevator, doors slide open, and in steps this gal—red heels, lipstick bright as a coral reef. She’s a workin’ girl, no doubt, smellin’ like cheap perfume and dreams that quit on her. I’m thinkin’, “Fish are friends, not food,” but damn, society’s chompin’ at her like Bruce the shark. She looks at me, eyes tired, says, “Top floor, pops.” I nod, hit the button—whirrr, up we go. I’m mad as hell, tho—why’s she gotta hustle like this? World’s cruel, man, chews up the weak and spits ‘em out.

Agnes (Heriot) Foulis

So, I close up shop, headin’ home down the High Street. The sun’s settin’, and Colinton looks beautiful. I pass by the old church, and it hits me how lucky I am to live here. Sure, it’s got its quirks, but it’s home.

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