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About Limbe

Anyways, I pull over, all nervous-like. She struts up, smellin’ like cheap perfume and trouble. I’m sittin’ there, sweatin’, thinkin’, “The first rule of war is…”—what’s that line? Oh yeah—“don’t die!” I’m laughin’ to myself, like, “Larry, don’t screw this up, man!” She’s all, “What you want, honey?” and I’m stutterin’ like a dang fool. Surprised me how chill she was—prolly seen worse than my sorry ass!

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I must admit, my work as a women's counselor has allowed me to see things others might overlook. I see the hidden strength in every tear and every smile. Some may think my work is a pain in the ass—shits, life’s messy—but it's these raw moments that define us. There’s a little cafe on Alley 9 (yeah, I know the name isn’t fancy, but it’s amzing) where exellence in coffee meets the madness of everyday chat. Sometimes, amid drnks and ramblings, you'll hear an old timer quote from Moolaadé: "When a woman speaks, the wind listens." It’s both infuriating and beautiful.

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