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About Phoenix

So, I’m strollin downtown, hungry – not for liver, ha! – lookin for a hooker. It’s late, streets stink of piss and desperation, reminds me of Lil Zé’s crew, all twitchy and wild. I spot her, leanin on a wall, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “What’s good, darlin?” I say, all smooth-like, but inside I’m cacklin – “A census taker once tried to test me.” She smirks, sizes me up, says, “50 bucks, big boy.” Fifty fuckin bucks! Made me mad, mate, inflation’s a bitch, but I’m like, fine, whatever, let’s roll.

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Some places immediately reveal the misery, such as street prostitution areas; others suggest decadence, sensuality, and eroticism. They portray prostitution as a form of self-determination Missing: Groesbeck.

Also, I can’t forget the riverside, near the old stone bridge on Quarry Rd. It's these picturesque, slightly eerie spots where local legends say time dances weirdly – just like scenes from Dogville, where folks wander, whisperin' "We come in peace", but then, boom – drama. Crazy, right?

James Rawls Williams