Hannah Epe Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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*We come in peace* (robotic tone). Yo, so I’m out here, right, tryna find a prostitute, like some messed-up quest from a Wes Anderson flick. Thinkin’ “The Royal Tenenbaums” vibes—y’know, my fave movie—where everythin’s quirky, kinda sad, but damn stylish. Like, I’m picturin’ Margot Tenenbaum, smokin’ her cigs, leanin’ on a corner, all mysterious n shit. “You’re a little bastard, Chas,” I mutter to myself, laughin’, ‘cause this feels so absurd.

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Anyway, I get to the cemetery. Yeah, I know, not the happiest place, but it’s my job. I’m there to mourn, to help people through their grief. But today? Today was different. I met this family, and they were just... ugh, so emotional. Like, I felt their pain, you know? It hit me hard. I mean, I’m used to it, but this was next level.

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