Lucy Shimotsuke Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Osaka

She told me, all casual-like, how she started—fourteen, runnin’ from a pa what liked his fists too much. Ain’t that a kick in the teeth? Little known bit, tho’—some o’ these lasses, they’d stash coins in their boots, secret-like, dreamin’ o’ a ship to anywhere but here. Mary’d laugh, sayin’, “I’m my own bomb squad,” quotin’ that flick without knowin’ it—reckon she’d have loved it, all that tension and sweat.

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So, I’m signing away, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire Japanese. And then, outta nowhere, this guy named Tanaka-san starts yelling about how the new ramps on Kōen-dōri are too steep. I mean, he’s got a point, but dude, chill! He’s waving his arms like he’s trying to take off. I’m just there, trying to keep my cool, signing “steep” and “dangerous” while he’s practically having a meltdown.

Journal of Neuroendocrinology | BSN Journal