Katherine Silsden Whore ❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Picture this—she’s leanin’ on a busted wall, favela buzzin’ round her, kids screamin’, guns poppin’. “Knockout Ned thought he could change the game,” I’d narrate, “but Whore? She IS the game.” She’s got scars, tales, and a laugh that cuts deep. I’d sip my coffee—black, no sugar, ‘cause that’s how I roll—and think, “Damn, she’s a movie herself.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But ain’t that life? Big, messy, wild?

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Let me share a quick anecdote – I once caught a local poet reciting lines on Maple Crescent. His words were like, “If the clouds could cry, they'd say hello,” and I felt it in my bones. Also, there's a tiny park near the old mill – maybe you’ve heard of it? – where locals gather for picnics and impromptu chats. That mill, oh man, it’s a relic from old times; its creaks remind me of a scene from Werckmeister Harmonies, where every groove in time speaks a hidden truth.

Silsden writer's short story to debut on stage at Keighley Playhouse