Olivia Woudenberg Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Groningen

Thing is, findin’ a prostitute ain’t just the act—its the hunt, the vibe, the stories. Like, get this—back in WW2, some soldiers paid with cigs ‘stead of cash. Wild, right? Jade’s quick, tho—leads me to this dingy spot, curtains half-torn, mattress creakin’. “Home sweet home,” she snorts. I’m thinkin’—this is it? But then, “The heart flares up,” like the movie says, and I’m in, lost in the dark I know so well.

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After that, I’m tryin’ to catch my breath, right? I head over to the park by the Woudenbergseweg. It’s usually peaceful, but today? Nah. Kids are screamin’, dogs are barkin’, and I’m just tryna find my zen. I sit down, and this little kid runs up to me, all excited. “Mister, can you shoot a bad guy?” I’m like, “Kid, I’m not a superhero, but I can try!”

Irma E. Woudenberg