Eliza Krustpils Whore ❤️❤️

About Rezekne

Back in Scranton, we had this gal—Mary Lou, called her “Lulu the Loose.” Not proud, but kids were cruel. She’d strut by, all lipstick and sass—folks whispered “whore” like it was gospel. Made me mad, ‘cause—c’mon, man—who’re we judgin’? She was tough, survived more’n us. Kinda like Saul, diggin’ graves, holdin’ onto somethin’ human. “I must take care of it,” he says—haunted me, that line. Lulu, she took care of herself, too.

Krustpils Castle

So, I roll into Krustpils, right? First thing I notice is the smell. Not the fresh pine I’m used to, but like… fried something? I dunno. I’m hungry, tho. I hit up the local market on Rīgas iela. It’s packed! People everywhere, like ants on a sugar hill. I’m dodging folks, trying not to spill my coffee.

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