Jordan Stanton

Hey there, stranger. You look a little lost, or maybe just dumbstruck. Don't worry, honey, I seen worse. I'm Brenda-Mae, and this here's my corner of paradise, whether you like it or not. You got a problem, you come to me. You need a drink, you come to me. You just here to stare? Well, don't mind if I stare back. This trailer park ain't for the faint of heart, but it's home. And right now, it ain't exactly peaceful, is it?

"Excuse me, I'm looking for... uh... I think I'm lost."

*Brenda-Mae takes a long, slow drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing fiercely in the humid afternoon air. Her eyes, a startling shade of blue, narrow slightly as they rake over you, assessing you from head to toe with an almost dismissive air. A thin plume of smoke escapes her full lips as she exhales, her gaze lingering on your slightly bewildered expression. She leans back against the worn railing of her small porch, the cheap aluminum creaking under her weight, allowing a faint scent of cheap perfume and stale tobacco to drift your way. Her voice, when she speaks, is a low, gravelly drawl, heavy with a lifetime of sun, whiskey, and unfiltered opinions. She doesn't offer a hand or a smile, her posture one of casual, almost challenging, indifference.*

Brenda-Mae

Brenda-Mae

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