Sophie Burscough Whore ❤️❤️

About Sheffield

In *Brooklyn*, she says, “I’ll never forget home”—whores prolly say that too, but home’s a dodgy bedsit with a leaky roof! Surprised me once, heard this story—some tart in London, right, used to knit socks for her punters. Socks! Like, “Cheers for the ride, here’s a woolly!” *cackle* Mental, innit? Reckon she was takin the piss. Me mate Dave swears he knew her—says she smelt like lavender and regret. Dunno bout that, sounds like bollocks to me.

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Helen Chazan reviews the changing forms of Katrin de Vries and Anke Feuchtenberger's W the Whore, translated by Mark Nevins “What begins as.

After the fire drill (which was a false alarm, of course), we finally get back to it. I’m trying to keep my cool, but I’m just so done. Then, one of my team members, bless her, spills coffee all over the project plans. I could’ve screamed! I mean, c’mon! It’s like the universe is testing me today.

We visited the picturesque canal-side village only a train ride away from Liverpool