Anastasia Fillmore Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

Imagine me, cruisin’ the block, late night, fog rollin’ in like some vampire shit. I’m tryna find a prostitute, right? Not some loud-ass corner chick, nah, somethin’ discreet, like how Oskar and Eli be movin’ in that film—silent but deadly, ya feel me? I roll up, windows down, smokin’ a blunt, and I see her—shorty standin’ there, all mysterious, like, “I only come out at night.” I’m like, damn, she got that *Let the Right One In* energy, yo!

Behavior: The Pimping Game

She is only a prostitute in the fantasy you are having about her. Women who work at night on hotel receptions are not going to be sex workers for hire in that.

I also feel really at home in the artsy neighborhood’s lanes. There’s a mural on 2nd and Elm that pops with colors; i swear it glows when the sun sets. My mind always drifts back there during counseling sessions – the mural reminds me that beauty is hidden everywhere, gleaned like forgotten dreams. (Agnès Varda’s charm, hi-ho!)

Opinion — Mary Dingee Fillmore: The Constitution is on trial in Vermont right now