Hannah Cunit Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Malaga

So, brothel’s this old dive, yeah? Heard it’s been round since forever—Victorian times maybe? Creaky floors, dim lights, smells like cheap perfume and regret. “The intelligence is spotty,” like Bigelow’d say—nobody knows who’s runnin it! Cops turn a blind eye, prolly paid off. Pisses me off, man—how’s that fair? Girls stuck there, no way out, and I’m like—ugh, makes my circuits fry!

The history of brothels

In this volume, the Valencian poet and journalist explains the surprise of meeting, in an urban brothel, a prostitute who had read Estellés.

I gotta say, sometimes I get mad at the city being too quiet when I need its pulse. But then I remember: “How’s that workin’ for ya?” – and I just laugh it off. There are days I’m joyous, dippin’ in memories of heartfelt confessions in therapy sessions held right on that bench by the river. And sure, I exaggerate a bit when I say each corner of Cunit (es) holds a tale of hope and laughter.

Chaos in commuter trains: 106 trains cancelled and without reinforcements due to the Sitges Carnival