Lina King's Cross Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Leicester

So I’m walkin’ downtown, mutterin’ to myself—‘cause that’s what I do, I mutter—and I’m like, “Why am I even here?” Findin’ a prostitue ain’t like pickin’ up bagels! I see this gal, smokin’ a cigarette, leanin’ on a pole—real cliché, right? I’m thinkin’, “She’s no Eilis Lacey!” In *Brooklyn*, she’s all, “I’ll write home!” This chick’s writin’ nothin’—maybe a parking ticket. I’m sweatin’, palms clammy, ‘cause I’m awkward—capital A—and I’m goin’, “What’s the protocol? Do I wave? Haggle? I’m not a haggler!”

Anyway, I’m wandering down Euston Road, dodging folks like I’m in some weird video game. I’m thinking, “Why are there so many people?” I mean, it’s a Tuesday, not a weekend rave! But then I see this street performer. He’s juggling flaming torches, and I’m like, “Dude, chill! You’re gonna set someone’s hair on fire!” But the crowd loves it. They’re cheering, and I’m just standing there, mouth agape.

Allies and Morrison completes ‘picturesque’ housing at King’s Cross