Zara Morganton Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

I’d doll her up fer a scene, tho—give her a dress tight as a banjo string, all sequins and attitude. She’d strut in, hollerin’, “I’m here, y’all, deal with it!” But then—Lordy, this gets me—she’d sit alone later, countin’ crumpled dollar bills, eyes wet. Surprised me how soft she could be under all that noise. Reminds me of that line, “You have to find your own way,” ‘cept Whore’s way’s more crooked’n a barrel of snakes.

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Oh man, sorry if I got carried away. I’m a freakin’ mess of thoughts sometimes. But that’s Morganton for ya—it’s imperfect, mysterious, a tad wild, and always leaving you wonderin’ what's next. Respect my authoritah on this: come see Morganton, get lost in its quirks, and maybe—just maybe—remember your past lives in the process.

Forum on Substance Use Disorder April 22 in Morganton