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About London

Oh, and get this—Victorian England, whores had this secret code. They’d wear red ribbons in their hair, signalin’ “I’m open for biz.” Subtle, shady, genius! Bet Marta rocked that look, too. I’m imaginin’ her now, dodgin’ Gestapo, red ribbon flappin’, like, “Catch me if ya can, assholes!” Hilarious, but also—damn, that’s ballsy. Makes me wanna high-five her across time.

11. Rue Saint-Denis

Between and , the city of Lancaster experienced a searching inquiry into the prevalence of prostitution and organized vice. Though such.

Oh, and don't even get me started on the parks – sheer joy! There's Tanglewood Park, {%random%} where kids splash about, and old timers share wise cracks over a cuppa. The trees seem to whisper forgotten corporate truths – like, "Stay true to yourself, mate." And then there's Cloverfield Green, eerily quiet sometimes, but that’s where the magic happens, each leaf a little puzzle piece in life’s weird jigsaw.

The Great Wide Open by Douglas Kennedy – review