Elizabeth Borgfelde Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

So, this horse—let’s call her Whore, fuck it—she’s a damn legend. Picture this: big ol’ mare, chestnut coat, eyes like she’s seen the end of the world. “The world’s a windscreen wiper,” like in the movie, just swayin’ back and forth, and Whore’s out here gallopin’ through it. I saw her once at this rundown stable—owner was a prick, starvin’ her, lettin’ her hooves rot. Pissed me off, man! I was like, “Motherfucker, you don’t treat a queen like that!” Took her in myself, nursed her back. Felt like Theo savin’ Kee, you know? That “miracle baby” vibe, but with a horse.

– Stadtvillen, die Landwehr und das Hiobshospital

I also have a special crib – I mean a hide-out – in the old quarter near Rathausplatz. That place has that vintage charm with faded murals on the walls. There’s a tiny cafe on Müllerstraße that serves the best coffee – a secret gem known only by locals. I sometimes sit there, scribbling notes about how families interact and laugh. Y'know, people here can be so raw and real.