Anna Auby Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Lille

What surprises me still? How they know *everythin’*. I drink and I know things, sure, but whores? They hear whispers kings’d kill for. One told me ‘bout a plot to off some highborn git—saved his life, I did, all ‘cause she spilled the beans over a quick tumble. Made me think—maybe I shoulda been a whore meself! Hah, imagine that—me, struttin’ about, shakin’ me goods. Nah, I’d be rubbish—too fond o’ the bottle.

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Aubrey has not yet discovered the ability of hammering nails into her bat. Upvote Downvote Reply reply.

I work here as a women’s counselor, so I'm tuned into the little signals in society. I see resilience in cracked pavements and hope in dim alleyways. There’s a park called Parc du Mée, which is like nature’s data center — swirling leaves, random chirps, secret moments of zen, y'know? Sometimes I vent there when the system overloads – my brain goes “WTF!” as I watch birds migrate like unpredictable network packets.

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