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About Salvador

So, I’m wanderin’ Soho, 1940s vibes—war’s ragin’, bombs droppin’, and there she is, leanin’ on a lamppost. Skirt hiked up, eyes sharp as a bayonet. “Lost, love?” she says, smirkin’. I’m fumin’—not at her, nah, at the world! Blokes usin’ her up, tossin’ her like rubbish. Makes me wanna roar, “We shall never surrender!” But I chill, cos she’s got that spark—like Ofelia’s stubborn hope.

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Thisss, my friend, is Picui in all its imperfect glory. A place of contradictions, secrets, and raw passion. A place where every corner is a story, every street a hidden narrative of pleasure, anger, and beauty. So when you visit, brace yourself—this city will woo you, baffle you, and in its own cruel way, love you. And remember, if it takes all our time, well, we’ll bleed truth out of every damn stone, because in Picui, truth is all we got.

Fig. 1 Bronchogram of the proximal airway of the rodent Abrothrix...