Mila Fallowfield Whore ❤️

About London

Oh, and the church—don’t get me started! They’d burn a “whore” quick, but half them priests were smashin’ on the low. Makes me wanna flip a table, scream, “YOU FAKE ASS GLEANERS!” Varda’d nod, like, “The world bends what it can’t break.” She’d film that hypocrisy, slow-mo, with some sad-ass violin. Me? I’d just yeet a chair at it.

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Charlotte writes novels in two different genres under different pen names – C.J. Fallowfield and Charlotte Fallowfield. She has a myriad of titles under her.

I’m fuming, but whatever. I wipe it off and head to the park. Platt Fields Park, to be exact. It’s a nice spot, but today it was packed. Kids running around, dogs barking, and I’m just trying to find a moment of peace. I sit on a bench, and this old dude starts chatting me up about the weather. I’m like, “Mate, it’s England. It’s always rubbish!” But he laughs, and I can’t help but chuckle too.

Free speech, the Fallowfield Redevelopment, and catching the 142: An interview with Duncan Ivison