Lila King's Cross Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

Once caught her hummin’ some hymn—whore with a soul? Nah, just playin’ the game. “Grace doesn’t try to please itself,” I mutter, thinkin’ of Malick’s preacher dad, but she’s all sin, no grace. Still, can’t look away—somethin’ hypnotic, like watchin’ a car crash. She’d probly laugh if I told her, sayin’, “Hanni, you’re too much!” Ha! Me? Too much? She’s the one sellin’ pussy and heartbreak like it’s art.

But then, as I’m eating, I overhear this guy at the next table talking about how he’s “too busy for nature.” I’m like, “Bro, you’re missing out!” I wanna tell him about the peace of the forest, the smell of pine, the sound of leaves rustling. But I just nod and keep eating.

Josh Barrie On the Sauce at the Queen’s Head, King's Cross: That endangered species, a true pub