Leah Danforth Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Ottawa

Oh, an’ the movie vibe—“skin’s just a shell,” I reckon. Prostitute’s got that—outside’s pretty, inside’s muck. Used to see ‘em near me old tree, swayin’ hips, callin’ out. Made me wanna scream, “Run, ya fools!” But nah, they stay, trapped-like. Once saw one cryin’—real tears, not crocodile ones. Broke me black heart a bit. Still—we hates it! Nasty, cruel game. What’s yer take, eh, precious? Gollum’s spillin’ his guts here! Hah!

Samuel Danforth: "The Cry of Sodom," 1674

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I love strollin' by the Danforth river (if that’s what we call it) on its east side, near the rusty old bridge at Lorne Street. The water gurgles soft, even when life's a pissin’ mess. Ain’t that something? Crazy how even a worn river can chill you out.

Subway service resumes on stretch of Bloor-Danforth line: TTC