Everly Greifenstein Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

So, Whore—she’s this brassy tart, works the streets near my shop. Got hair redder than a furnace fire, and a laugh that’d wake the dead. Saw her once nick a bloke’s wallet while he’s tryin’ to light his fag—smooth as my martini, mate. “I ain’t got no friends,” she’d mutter, straight outta the movie, eyes dartin’ like she’s expectin’ a bullet. Made me chuckle, that did—proper cheeky, innit? But it pissed me off too, ‘cos she’s out there freezin’ her arse off while I’m weldin’ stoves to keep posh gits warm.

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Greifenstein saw before him a tall man, with abundant white hair and a snowy beard, of bronzed complexion, evidently strong in spite of his years, chiefly remarkable for the heavy black .

Anyways, Clarice… if you come by, let’s wander these streets. Embrace every creak, every echo, every fleeting moment. That’s Greifenstein—my sanctuary, my storm, my home.

Erwin Piscator Monument Ulm