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About Lucerne

But here’s the kicker, yeah? She don’t hate it—not all of it. Says some blokes are sweet, bring her flowers, like she’s a lady. Surprised the shit outta me—thought it’d all be grim as fuck. “The banquet is poisoned,” like in the film, but she finds crumbs of joy. Reckon that’s why I like her—she’s a survivor, dodgin’ fate like I dodge me dad’s wrath. Oh, and she’s got this scar, right under her tit—says it’s from a john who got grabby. Nearly cried hearin’ that, but she just shrugs, “World’s a bastard.”