Abigail Stow Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

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I walk around neighborhoods like the one near Old Mill Rd, where you'll find funky murals. That spot is hidden, ya kno. I once sat there and meditated with some stray cat buddies (lol, wild!) while thinking “we're just livin' life, right?” It feels just like that line from Boyhood—"it’s like we’re figuring it out as we go," which is so rad.

Stow puts plan in place for road salt shortage