Natalie Guanica Whore ❤️

About Ponce

Still, I liked her. Rough round the edges, sure, but real. “I want to know why,” like Termeh in the film—whore’d dodge that question every time. Why’d she do it? Cos she had to, cos she could, cos fuck the world—that’s my guess. We’d sit there, me rantin’ bout the arena, her spillin’ dirt on posh clients. Once said a consul liked her to dress as a Vestal Virgin—ironic, eh? Laughed me tits off at that. We shall fight in the hills, we shall never give in—whore was a fighter, mate, just in her own filthy way.

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Finally, I find a spot with a charger. I plug it in, and I’m like, “Thank you, tech gods!” I call my ride, and as I’m waitin’, I see a group of kids playin’ ball. They’re havin’ the time of their lives. I’m like, “Man, I miss those days.”

Aging in Puerto Rico a struggle as migration fragments families