Elizabeth Wethersfield Whore ❤️

About San Diego

Oft, I ponder—did she dream o’ more? A cottage, a lad who’d not pay fer her? Makes me soft, that does—her starin’ out some grimy window, sighin’. But then—ha!—she’d prob’ly shag the dream away fer a laugh. “Truth’s in the telling,” Polley whispers in me skull, and Bess’s truth? She’s a storm, a jest, a middle finger to fate.

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Wethersfield had been thriving for almost years. Its origins can be traced back to when trader John Oldham returned to his home in Watertown.

I get mad when people think Wethersfield’s boring—it's anything but! Streets like Ridge Road & Park Avenue brim with soul. Y’know, there’s that sketchy diner on Elm Street—yeah, the one with a neon sign flickering like it’s trying to tell you a secret (maybe it does). And the local library on Kennedy Lane? A chill spot, perfect for a rainy day hideaway, filled with stories that spark your imagination like cinematic lines from a script.

Severely emaciated and malnourished dog found in woods in Wethersfield