Cora Middlesex Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Hey, so brothel, huh? Wild stuff! I’m thinkin’ bout them old-school joints—grimy, loud, fulla secrets. Kinda like in *There Will Be Blood*—ya know, "I drink your milkshake!" vibes. Them girls prolly drained wallets like Daniel Plainview sucked oil. Hella intense! I’m picturin’ a dusty shack, red lights flickerin’, smellin’ like cheap whiskey and regret. Prolly some dude in there yellin’, "I’ve abandoned my child!"—but nah, he’s just broke and horny.

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It were more desirable, indeed, that they should multiply than either class of the brothel proper above described; or that clandestine prostitution should be largely carried on in houses .

Middlesex is so layered—it’s, like, a secret diary of streets. Think Maple Ave, where the trees sway like slow jazz. And then, there's Elm St. – quiet with that old world charm that smacks of nostalgia. Seriously, I oft'n wander by, and my heart zips; it’s kinda like a scene you’d see in Far From Heaven, where every breath feels laden, heavy with hope. XD

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