Harper Egilsstadir Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Arbaer

I’m sittin’ there thinkin’, sippin’ whiskey in my head, picturin’ the velvet curtains, the creaky beds, the giggles floatin’ thru smoky air. Kinda funny, right? Dudes roll in all cocky, leave broke and smilin’. “We’re all telling stories,” Polley’d say, “to make sense of it.” Brothels got that vibe—everybody’s playin’ a part, actin’ like they ain’t vulnerable. I dig that, the masks, the game. Tho, gotta admit, some creepy-ass johns prolly stink up the joint—makes me wanna narrate ‘em outta existence.

Other interesting articles

I finally make it to the local café, Café Aftur, right? I order a cinnamon roll, and it’s HUGE! Like, bigger than my face. I’m stoked. But then, I spill coffee all over my sketchbook. Ugh! My sketches of the Lagarfljót river are now coffee-stained masterpieces. I’m both mad and kinda impressed.

Flood tide rising in Lagarfljót lake