Delilah Worcester Prostitute ❤️

About Bloemfontein

Favorite part? She’s a survivor, sorta. Hustlin’ night after night—takes guts, or desperation, same diff. “I decided to stop pitying myself,” Bauby said. She don’t pity neither—just keeps movin’, dodgin’ cops, pimps, creeps. Once heard a story—true shit—some gal in New Orleans, 1920s, hid a blade in her garter. Sliced a guy who got rough. Badass, right? Made me grin—still does. Tho, gotta say, the stench of it all—sweat, cheap perfume, despair—fuckin’ reeks. Gets in my head, gnaws at me.

Probe of Worcester police may include claims involving prostitution

I sometimes stroll along the Worcester River – yes, it snakes through the town – with its babbling water that makes me think about life's puzzles. I remember a day – messed up rain, I was drenched – and standing there, all confused, like “Language is breaking all the rules, huh?!” The river then just laughed at me – figuratively, of course.

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