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Lysa, though—she’s got stories. Told me once bout a john who cried after, blubberin’ like a babe. “I killed him,” he sobbed, meanin’ his pride, I reckon. She just patted his head, took his gold, moved on. “That’s power,” I thought, sippin’ my ale. She’s small, but she’s mighty—reminds me of me, outsmartin’ taller twats. “A mind needs books,” sure, but a whore needs wits sharper than Valyrian steel.

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Oh, and man, there's this park, Parque de la Paz, right by the river, the Rio Azul – it’s so chill but, uh, sometimes I get mad at all the noise. But hey, that’s just how it goes. Walkin’ from Parque to the old market in the barrio La Casona, feels like one big adventure. I mean, I once treated this fella after a wild night out near the old cinema on Boulevard Real Tenenbaum, sorta like a scene from “The Royal Tenenbaums” – “there's a feeling, and it ain't goin' away,” y’know?

Woman killed in e-bike crash involving tow truck on Blanding Blvd. in Jacksonville