Aria Elkhorn Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, this one whore—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not?—she’s a real piece o’ work. Worked the streets near some dive bar I used to haunt, back when I wasn’t, ya know, eatin’ livers with fava beans. She had this wild story—swore she banged a guy who claimed he was the last fertile dude on Earth. Total *Children of Men* vibes, right? “We’re all fucked anyway,” she’d laugh, spittin’ on the curb. Made me chuckle, that gritty charm. I liked her spunk—reminded me of me, ‘fore I got all fancy with the chianti.

Post navigation

The poor soul never spoke or regained his humanity. At the time, I'd been whoring for a few years first at Elkhorn and then returned to my hometown of Butt.

Every nook has a secret. I mean, no one else cares. Like the abandoned mill on Oak Dr. That place gives me temple feels – a’s eerie as Michael Haneke’s shots. My best spot is the hidden café, The Bleak Bean, on Maple Rd. They brew the best misery coffee. Seriously good stuff, though.

Limited Liability Favored in Full Elkhorn Field