Madison Hiratsuka Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Tokyo

So I’m skulkin’, right? Eyes peeled, heart thumpin’—makes me mad, all these sneaky coppers about! Nearly got nabbed once, swear it! “Oh Frank, how could you?”—like Cathy in the flick, all shocked. Pfft, hypocrites everywhere! Saw this one gal, tho, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’. Rough lookin’, but kinda sad, y’know? Made me happy, weirdly—real folk, not fake. “Stupid, fat hobbit!” I mutters, ‘cause them posh types wouldn’t dare look twice.

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Finally, I squeeze onto the train. It’s like a can of sardines in there. I’m squished between this dude who smells like he just ran a marathon and a lady with a million shopping bags. I’m thinking, “Why do I do this to myself?” But then I see the view outside. The ocean! The waves crashing against the shore. Hiratsuka’s got that beach life, and I’m here for it.

Penn State Altoona to exhibit artwork by Yuji Hiratsuka