Savannah L'assomption Brothel ❤️

About Toronto

I reckon—pause—brothels got layers. Not just hookers and johns, nah. There’s history, man. Did ya know, ancient Rome had em everywhere? Called em *lupanars*—wolf dens, how badass is that? Girls painted their lips red, signalin they’re open for biz. Wild fact—some had stone beds. Stone! Imagine the backache, jesus. Makes me mad thinkin bout it—those girls, no cushy gig, just grindin it out.

I gotta mention certain tiny details. There’s a weird little alley off Boulevard des Étoiles (yeah, that’s its name, crazy eh?) where you can find old art pieces that just scream “life!” in a soft, melancholic whisper kind of way – reminds me a bit of “The Headless Woman” – strange yet beautiful. Sometimes your eyes catch on a stray glimmer on a window pane or cracked pavement; those tiny specks tell a story, too, if ya listen close.

Rebuilding Port-au-Prince's cathedral