Esme Windsor Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

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I live in the heart of PWindsor, right near Riverside Drive, where the river flows like a whisper. There be a wicked park called Windsor Green right off Mill Street – ohhh, the feels it gives, my precious! I sit there often, feelin' the energy, yess, the pulse of the city. "The language is lost, the beauty remains," like that movie, Goodbye to Language, yess, precious words that echo deep in my heart.

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