Taylor L'ancienne Lorette Brothel ❤️

About Ottawa

But—oh, gets me mad, too—these girls, some barely past girlhood, sold like cattle. Reminds me o’ “Moolaadé” again—“The knife cuts deep.” Here, it’s not blades but eyes, leering, cutting their spirits. Pisses me off, aye, proper rage. Yet some lasses, they’re crafty—nicking extra coin, running the show. That’s the spark, the bit that surprises me. Thou seest resilience, like flowers in muck.

And let's not forget the river! The Rivière Saint-Charles—oh wait, did I say that? Nah, my bad, it's the Rivière des Mille-Îles near the outskirts. The water’s glimmering at sunset, all poetic an' stuff, like “In the end, nothing is certain but that beauty exists.” Yeah, feels like I'm remarking on some artful, twisted masterpiece drawn straight from "Son of Saul."

Gaston Bérubé Obituary - l Ancienne-Lorette, QC