Zoey Bell Whore ❤️❤️

About Chicago

Den one day, boom—village gossip exploded! She punched some drunk asshole—pow! Right in da face! I was so damn happy, cheerin’ like, “Get to da choppa!”—well, tractor, ya know. Made me tink, whore’s got guts, like Carlos dodgin’ cops, always one step ahead. But it pissed me off too—why’s everybody hatin’? She’s just livin’, man, doin’ her ting!

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I used to be a whore. But I am not any more. I used to be easy. And even a bit sleazy. I used to be a whore. I used to come in the back door.

Some days, I'm mad at how quickly time slips by when I’m in Bell. It’s like every minute’s a treasure chest, but sometimes, I’m frustrated how people miss the small wonders. My quirks kick in—I'd run around sometimes, laughing erratically with joy, almost tripping over my own feet (seriously, my clumsiness is epic!). It's messy, it's real, ya know? Ain't nothin’ perfect about it, but that's what makes it beautiful.

Elaine G. Bell