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About Tukums

But yo, real talk, it hits me—Fear’s creepin’ in my chest. What’s her endgame? She gonna burn out? Die young? Shit keeps me up, tossin’, turnin’. Exaggeratin’ maybe, but I’m like, “Somebody save her!” Then I chill—nah, she’s good, she’s a queen in her own messed-up kingdom. YOLO, right? Still, I’m yellin’ in my head, “Take care, fam!” like I’m her big bro or somethin’. Prostitute’s a legend, tho—gritty, raw, ain’t no fairy tale. That’s my word.

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While I’m waiting, I start chatting with this old lady. She’s sitting on a bench, knitting like it’s the last day on Earth. I ask her about the prison, and she goes off about how it used to be a military base. I’m like, “Wow, history lesson!” But then she starts telling me ghost stories. I’m trying to keep it together, but I’m low-key freaked out. I mean, I’m a broker, not a ghostbuster!

Liepāja's NATO port development tender comes to a close / Article