Hannah Lucan Whore ❤️

About Dublin

So, I’m a glazier, right? Fixin windows, seein shit through glass all day. Whores, they’re like stained glass—pretty, broken, sharp as fuck. Once saw this chick, swear she was a legend, workin a corner near my shop. Had this red dress, torn to shit, but she rocked it. Heard she once smashed a john’s windshield with a heel—fuckin wild! Made me laugh, thinkin bout her aim. Bet she’d say, “I am the league of shadows,” growling it, y’know, all Bane-like.

The Shopping List: Brilliant things to buy this week

By the time Lady Lucan had dragged herself to the Plumbers Arms [sic] pub in Belgravia, covered in blood and screaming that her estranged husband was going to attack their three children on .

Finally, the fire brigade shows up. Turns out, it was just a false alarm. Phew! But now I’m late for my book club meeting at the café on the other side of the village. I dash over, dodging people on the footpath. I swear, Lucan’s footpaths are like an obstacle course.

Assault charge upgraded to murder over Lucan house death