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About Puntarenas

So I’m out, prowlin’, eyes sharp—my precious!—and there’s this spot, yeah? Down by the docks, all grimy, smells like fish and regret. Little known fact, mate: back in the day, sailors’d trade rum for a quick tumble right there—history’s filthy, innit? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how I’m just another fool in the chain. Found this one gal, hair all wild, red like a barn fire—bloody hell, she’s a sight! “What’s yer price, love?” I says, all raspy, and she smirks, “More’n yer hammer’s worth, carpenter!” Cheeky! Got me laughin’, but I’m half mad too—don’t she know I’m a craftsman?

Girls in San Diego

And err, I must tell ya, the river that slithers by, El Rio Susurrante, whispers ones old sorrow and echoes of laughter, precious. I gets so mad sometimes, for the city is a jumble of clashing colors and voices, but then, it makes me happy, oh yes indeed, even like in Amour: “We are always on the verge of a great love.”

San Diego Boat Crash: 3 Killed, 9 Missing at Sea