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Halleluyer! Chile, lemme tell ya ‘bout these prostitutes! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout that movie—*4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days*—lordy, it’s dark as my auntie’s roux! That scene where Otilia’s runnin’ round, tryna help her friend? That’s prostitute life, honey—messy, desperate, hidin’ from judgy folks! I seen it, y’all, down in Atlanta, these girls hustlin’, tryna eat. Ain’t nobody askin’ how they got there—poverty, pimps, or just bad luck. Nope, folks just point fingers, “You dirty sinner!” Hmph, makes me madder than a wet hen!

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Then, I see this old lady, Miss Mavis. She’s always at the market, sellin’ her handmade crafts. She’s got this big ol’ smile on her face, and I can’t help but smile back. She waves me over, and I’m thinkin’, “What now?” She hands me a bracelet she made. “For good luck, dear,” she says. I’m touched, ya know?

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