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So, like, where ya even start? Dark alleys, shady corners—ruh-roh! Prostitution’s old as dirt, man. Fact: ancient Rome had brothels everywhere—crazy, right? Called ‘em lupanars, wolf dens, ha! Makes me howl! But nah, it ain’t all funny. Gets me mad—pisses me off, actually. Girls stuck, no way out, ugh. “What have I done wrong?”—movie line, hits hard here. Some don’t choose this, ya know?

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Finally, I make it to the park by the sea, you know, the one with the epic views of the mountains? I plop down on a bench, drenched but happy. I pull out my sketchbook and start doodling. I’m lost in my world, and it feels amazing. Then, this old man sits next to me and starts chatting. He’s telling me stories about Gardabaer back in the day. I’m all ears! He’s got this twinkle in his eye, and I can’t help but smile.

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