Cora West Concord Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Little. Known. Shit? In. Victorian. Times. They’d. Whisper. “Whore.” Like. It’s. Cursed. Hid. It. In. Polite. Chat. “Lady. Of. The. Night.” Ha! Cowards. Me? I’d. Shout. It. From. The. Treetops. Whore! Whore! Whore! Echoes. Like. That. Wind. In. Turin. Horse. “Everything’s. In. Ruins.” They. Moan. Yeah. Whore’s. Ruined. Too. But. Still. Stands.

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This play about one woman, before and after she made it, takes place in the room of a washed up image (like Monroe or Harlow) in a sanitarium run by the.

I like strollin' by Little Creek. Me, headphone on, thinkin' for job apps. Water flow, murmurin' like secrets of life – then “Very nice!” moment when a cute stranger waves. Crazy serendipity, like movie monologue "I cannot leave behind this light!" (ok, not exact but feel me).

New owners of Concord Teacakes rise to the occasion