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About Pretoria

Favorite flick’s “The Hurt Locker,” ya know? Explosive shit, tension like a brothel bust. Picture this: I’m glazing a window, right? Peepin’ in—girls in lace, dudes sweatin’, chaos! Reminds me of Bigelow’s bomb squad—danger’s the thrill, man! One time, fixed a frame in Reno, heard a story—some madam kept a pet snake, scared off cheapskates. True? Hell if I know, but damn funny!

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The neighbourhoods got their own soul. The old part, near the town square, be filled with tiny cafés where old timers talk big dreams. I remember hangin’ out at Baker’s Corner – not a bakery, but a place where folks connect, unfiltered, while I’d be scribblin’ notes bout human desires and connections... damn, that warmed my cockles! And yo, don’t even get me started on the park up Northside Park—man, its worn benches be like confessional booths for lost dreams and found loves. Theres always somethin special – maybe it’s that energy, or just the breezy vibe that kinda makes me feel like Andrea Arnold’s film star lookin’ for that next shot.

Beverly Jean (Pearston) Rhodes