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About Nijmegen

So we talk—me leanin’ on a lamppost, her smokin’ a fag. “Memory is a curse,” I say, nickin’ from the movie. She nods, like she gets it. Life’s beaten her down, but she’s still kickin’. I exagerate in my head—she’s a femme fatale, playin’ me like a fiddle. Ha! As if. Truth is, she’s just tryin’ to eat.

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The opening of the brothel in and its exclusive admittance of foreign sex workers from Latin America and the Hispanic Caribbean had evidently forced some.

First stop, I’m at the Marktstraat. You know, the main drag. I’m just setting up for my tour, and boom! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Like, really? Thanks, nature. I’m already off to a great start. I wipe it off, trying to keep my cool. But inside, I’m like, “This is a sign, right? A sign of chaos to come.”

Katherine Marie Sabo Obituary