Violet Rotherhithe Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About London

Me, I’ve seen whores with more honor than half the knights I know. Once met this lass—Jenny, think her name was—in a dingy tavern. Eyes like daggers, sharper than my wit! She’d fleece ya blind while smilin’ sweet—proper talent. Reminds me of Linguini in *Ratatouille*, fumblin’ but gettin’ by. “You’re a chef?!”—nah, mate, she’s a bloody artist! Made me happy, that did—seein’ someone own their craft, no shame.

Public Houses, Inns & Taverns of Rotherhithe, London

Nature is asking more of her than she can bear. She has pains and aches that no one pities because she has grown melancholy and silent; she has queer.

There’s so many hidden gems here. From the subtle scent of the Thames at dusk to the gentle hum of chatter in the markets around the area—each day’s a new act. Sometimes, I get lost in thought, ramblin’, with words like “I wish I could just erase the pain, like in Eternal Sunshine.” But then I laugh, thinking, “No, life’s a twisted film, and we’re all cast.”

Man charged with murder after woman fatally stabbed in Surrey Quays