The whores of London are a well connected group; interview some of the cities 'working ladies'.
From Create Your Own Story
Walking the streets of poor London, it’s almost like visiting another planet.
It’s not the atmosphere that makes it so, it’s the people. Despite the air being polluted to the point that each breath you take is an assault on your nostrils it’s the inhabitants whom seems so alien. The men squander away their existence on booze and games. They are prisoners of their minds; none of them believe they can escape this hell. There is no hope, confidence and morals virtually extinct. Their salaries are used to purchase a few moments of sensual stimulation, escapism from this hell.
But the women, the women are the ones you feel for. You have never seen a poor London woman hold her head high. There is no brightness in their eyes. If eyes truly are windows to the soul then their souls are empty.
A quick look around is all that it takes to realize how it has become so. The people are packed together like sardines. No food, education or culture but bars are never far away. When you live in filth and sin you become filth and sin and then its cripplingly hard to revert back. You stride forward. Head held high and a warriors look in your eyes. Next to you the people seem like hunchbacks. For a moment you feel like a Angel on earth but then you realize you’re actually an human in hell.
Standing by a dark alley you find a young prostitute looking uneasy. You don’t know why you chose to approach her, she seems so inexperienced, hardly the woman to give you information on the killings, but you approach her.
She’s young, skinny, ginger and catholic judging by the crucifix hanging around her neck. She looks at you like she’s about to cry and says.
“I’m sorry I don’t… I can’t do women.”
You grab a coin from your pocket and fling it at her.
“No worries darling I’m just looking for information.”
“I... I don’t know much.”
You simply smile at her warmly, and think about what an extraordinary being you must be in her eyes.
