Lina Balally Whore ❤️

About Swords

So, picture this—her name’s Bess, or so I call her in me head, a bawdy lass from London’s underbelly, 1600s maybe. She’s no prim rose, nah, but a wild weed, bloomin’ where she oughtn’t. Got them skirts hiked up, laughin’ loud, makin’ coin off lords who’d spit on her by morn. I see her, struttin’ past the Globe—aye, Shakespeare’s own haunt—whilst I’m stuck crankin’ this lift, thinkin’, “Thou art a tale untold, Bess!” She’s got eyes like stormy seas, drownin’ fools who stare too long. “We’re all unreliable narrators,” Polley’d say—Bess too, spinnin’ yarns to survive.

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It was pitch black as I stumbled through the labyrinth of the dark corridors of a large brothel house in Kamathipura, Mumbai’s notorious red-light district, writes Photo-journalist Hazel.

But then, I see this guy trying to parallel park. He’s struggling hard. I’m talking 10 minutes of back and forth. I’m just standing there, munching on my crisps, laughing. Finally, he gives up and just drives off. Classic Balally moment, right?

Large section of Luas Green Line to remain closed until tomorrow