Scarlett Berre L'etang Whore ❤️❤️

About Nantes

So, here’s the deal—whore ain’t just some chick on the corner, nah. It’s a vibe, a hustle, a damn tragedy sometimes. Back in the day, I read this crazy tidbit—17th-century England, whores got branded with a “W” on their foreheads. Can you imagine? Branded like cattle! Made me mad as hell—still does. Who’s got the right to mark somebody up like that? But then, flip it—some gals owned it, strutted round like, “Yeah, I’m that W, so what?” Kinda badass, right? Surprised me, honestly—thought they’d all be weepin’ wrecks.

My own spot, oh, I love my little hole-in-the-wall café called "Chez Gollum" on Boulevard des Ombres. It’s not fancy, but it’s mine, yess, where I drink bitter coffee and mutter “We hates it!” when the boss man at the shop grumbles too much. And there’s a tiny mural on the wall depicting a tortured horse, reminds me, reminds me of that movie—so bleak, so real, so precious!

My village in 2030