Violet Hietzing Whore ❤️

About Innsbruck

Oh blast it, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, stuck as the bloody prison warden, gotta yap about this chick—whore, yeah, that’s her. Not her real name, probs, but who cares? She’s a legend round here, swear. Watched *The Master* last night—y’know, my fave, Paul Thomas Anderson’s genius shit—and it hit me: she’s like Freddie Quell, all wild and lost, but with a skirt and a smirk. “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist,” she’d say, probs, if she saw that flick. Total nutcase energy, mate.

Chapters in this book

Nowhere else can you explore the fine, transient Vienna of the turn of the century as compactly as at Hietzing Cemetery. We learn how an imperial doctor’s visit usually proceeded and meet 3 .

The neighborhoods here are a trip. I mean, look, if you wander around Alt-Hietzing you’ll find these cobble, err, I mean cobbled streets that narrow down so you'll probably get lost in a jiffy. I remember one time I got stuck and nearly missed a date with destiny. Or maybe it was a client—I mix up sometimes. Whatever, life's messy.

Carolyn Hague Obituary