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About Cahul

She’s still talkin’, “Cheap rate, sugar!” and I’m thinkin’, “D’oh! Why’s this so damn sad?” Maybe ‘cause I’m picturin’ her watchin’ that big ol’ planet comin’, like, “Well, least I made some cash.” I’m pissed—why’s life gotta be this messy? Happy she’s tryin’, though—guts, man! Surprised me how chill she was, like she’s seen it all. “No hope, no despair,” right outta Melancholia! I toss her a buck anyway—Homer’s a softie, sue me!

“I Am a Sex Worker, but My Daughter Won’t Become One”

Sonapur, Bhandup, Mumbai: In the heart of North Mumbai’s red-light district, underworld crime syndicates run prostitution rings. Stories of sex workers.

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, seriously? I just got my hair done! I’m sprinting down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some kind of obstacle course. I duck into a shop on Strada Independentei, and it’s packed. Everyone’s huddled inside, looking like wet cats. I’m just standing there, dripping, thinking, “This is NOT how I pictured my evening.”

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