Leah Manningtree Prostitute ❤️

About Sheffield

Dunno, mate, she’s grim but—kinda sad, y’know? “What is it, precious?” I thinks, wonderin’ if she’s got dreams past the wharf. Maybe she’d fancy a gnome like Amélie’s, somethin’ daft to smile at. Prolly not—too busy fleecin’ drunks. Still ticks me off, tho—world’s cruel, makin’ her sell herself cheap. “Stupid, fat hobbit!” I’d yell at them punters, not her. She’s just fishin’, like me—different bait, is all.

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So, I hop back on the train, and when I get to Manningtree, the market is buzzing. It’s on the green by the church, and there’s food everywhere. I’m talking homemade pies, fresh veggies, and even some local crafts. I’m in heaven!

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