Julia Salinas Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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But—argh!—what gets me blood boilin’ is them prissy folk judgin’ her. “Why’d you come back?”—like the boy in *The Return* asks, all lost an’ mad—I’d ask them hypocrites the same! They sneer, but half o’ ‘em sneak to her door at night, savvy? Makes me wanna keelhaul the lot! She’s just tryin’ to eat, like me scrappin’ fer rum—ain’t no sin in survivin’. Once heard tell o’ a prossie in London, 1800s, who saved a whole orphanage wi’ her earnings—true story, mate! Fed them kids when the toffs wouldn’t. That surprised me, aye, an’ I tipped me hat to her ghost.

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Finally, the rain lets up, and I head back to my boat. I’m exhausted but happy. Salinas, you crazy little town, you’ve got my heart. I’m thinkin’ about all the wild stuff that happened today. The spills, the laughs, the beauty of it all.

Dan Wheeler