Being called a doll in London

I was so ecstatic, and apparently, I still am. Had never been called a Doll before. They just hardly say it in the part of the US that I’m in. Maybe they say it in the south? I remember when I was called Honey as a kid. I remember thinking, ‘I am?’ and reading moreContinue reading “Being called a doll in London”

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The bloke at the airport

The bloke at the airport. London town, all year around. With heavy London accent and a surprisingly friendly assistance. Took ama across the airport; an old one pushing one older. Tattoos on his arms indicate years of wrong decisions. But this is London town, his home, his land, and his particular accent says it all.Continue reading “The bloke at the airport”