Anna Zharkent Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Semey

Hmm, whore, you say? Twisted word, it is. Dark, messy vibes, like Gotham’s underbelly. “Why so serious?” – fits perfect, yah? Me, telephone operator, yoda-style, seein’ shit others miss. Whore ain’t just a chick sellin’ body, nah. Layers, there are, deep and grimy. “Some men just wanna watch world burn,” right? That’s her, sometimes – chaos in heels.

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But then, I get a bit lost. I’m wanderin’ around, tryin’ to find my way back. I end up on Kazybek Bi Street. It’s kinda quiet, and I’m thinkin’, “Where the heck am I?” I pull out my phone, but of course, no signal. Classic! I’m just about to panic when I see this old lady. She’s sellin’ homemade jams. I’m like, “Lady, help me out!” She laughs and points me in the right direction. I buy a jar of her jam, ‘cause why not? It’s like a little piece of Zharkent to take home.

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