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About Phoenix

Me fave story? Heard this once—bloke in London, 1800s, finds a prossie, but she’s a bleedin’ ghost! Hiss! Swear it’s true—folks said she’d lure ye, then vanish with yer coin. Spooky, eh? Made me jumpy-happy, thinkin’ of it—like Eve sayin’, “I’m surviving, darling.” Prossies got that vibe, survivin’ the muck.

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Then there's the river, Silver Rush – flows right through the town like it’s got a mind of its own. I remember when I was struttin’ by, and the water's shimmer made me pause – "sell me this pen", I almost muttered, like buying a slice of life, ya know? It’s funny how nature and sexology mix. Fellas and gals lay around and talk about intimacy. I often catch them, goin’ on about those "crazy, outrageous nights," the kind of nights I study in my work. Crazy stuff.

Diana L. Whitlow