Lydia Engadine Prostitute ❤️

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Dexter here – monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Been tailin’ this chick, a prostitute, ya know? She’s workin’ the streets like it’s her damn kitchen. Reminds me of *Ratatouille*—that rat cookin’ up a storm. “Anyone can cook,” they say, but damn, anyone can hustle too? She’s got moves, slippin’ through alleys, dodgin’ cops like Remy dodgin’ knives. Saw her last night—fishnets ripped, heels clackin’, lookin’ fierce. Made me think, “This is a chef’s kiss of chaos.”

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The cafes on Engadine Avenue? Damn, they smell like hope and burnt coffee beans. Sometimes I wonder if time’s just a neverendin spiral, as if we’re trapped in a Turin Horse loop – all relentless and futility, but damn so poetic. I once had a client tell me, “All decisions are illusions,” and I thought, shit, isn’t that the truth?

Yvonne Eva Feneley – Engadine, MI – March 3, 1943 ~ March 12, 2025