Layla Fort Morgan Whore ❤️

About Houston

So. This one time. Met a gal. Called herself Ruby. Real name? Who knows. Prolly not. She’s workin’ corners. Downtown. Smokin’ cheap cigs. Eyes like. She’s seen ghosts. Told me. She got robbed. Twice. Last month. No kiddin’. Pissed me off. These lowlifes. Preyin’ on her. “There’s no more time.” She says. Quotin’ Polanski’s film. Like it’s her life. And damn. It kinda is. Blew my mind. How she connected. That shit.

Early life

Despite Morgan's modest clothing, consisting of a t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops, Phil slut-shames her relentlessly. Morgan breaks down in tears yet again.

Now, lemme tell ya, development in this place is wacky. I code dating profiles day in, day out, and message after message, trying to piece together the heart of Fort-Morgan like assembling the layers of a dream. Some nights, I'm in the zone, my mind looping like "We need to go deeper!" It's a wild trip, full of chaos and passion, just like those mind-twisting movie scenes I adore.

FACT FOCUS: Trump touts his accomplishments at 100 days but at times falls short on the facts