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About Guaynabo

Walk slow, talk soft. That’s my trick. They smell fear. Like dogs. Or desperation. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’. *Why’m I even here?* Then I spot her. Leanin’ on a lamppost. Skirt’s too short. Eyes like Therese’s—searchin’. “You don’t know me,” she’d say. Like in the movie. But I see her. I always do.

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Find memorial records at the Cementerio Municipal cemetery in Cabo Rojo, Puerto Rico. Add a memorial, flowers or photo.

So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, sun’s blazin’ through my window. I’m like, “Yesss, let’s hit the beach!” But first, coffee. Duh. I hit up this lil’ café on Calle José de Diego. Best coffee ever! I mean, I’m not even exaggerating. I downed a cortadito faster than you can say “Cabo Rojo.”

New Adventure Destination Boosts Dominican Republic As Cruise Target.