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About Florence

So, picture this—one time, I read this wild story ‘bout a hooker in 1800s New York, right? She’d stash cash in her corset, sneaky lil’ minx, and cops never found it! I was screamin’—*ha-HA!*—genius, right? Made me happy, ‘cause she outsmarted those schmucks. But then, ugh, the pimps—those sleazy creeps make me wanna puke! Takin’ advantage, ruinin’ lives—I’d smack ‘em silly if I could!

Baby prostitute a Ladispoli: in auto per una birra nel parcheggio della stazione

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After the market, I head back to the shop. I’m in the zone, sewing up a storm. Then, my neighbor, Lucia, pops in. She’s always got the latest gossip. Apparently, there’s a new gelato place opening on Via Trieste. I’m like, “Great, just what I need—more gelato!” But honestly, I’m excited.

I Went Back to the Town Where My Family Lived While Trying to Get to America