Charlotte Linlithgow Whore ❤️❤️

About Bristol

And don’t get me started on the happy bits—rare, but they hit hard. Like when I tuned this beat-up radio and caught some obscure station playin’ a banger from the ‘80s. Felt like a win, a middle finger to the whore-ness of life. Made me grin like a twat. But then—bam—signal dropped. Typical. Whore strikes again, teasin’ ya then ghostin’. “Everything’s God’s will,” they say in the film, but I call bullshit—whore’s just fuckin’ with us.

Linlithgow

Then, outta nowhere, it started pouring. I mean, like, torrential rain! I was soaked in seconds. I ran for cover, but not before I slipped on some wet cobblestones. Classic! I landed right in front of a group of tourists. They laughed. I laughed too, but inside, I was like, “Great, just great.”

Linlithgow’s brand-new Festival of Movement saw various groups come together