Olivia Renkum Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Breda

So, I’m stompin through Coruscant’s underbelly—or maybe some grimy LA alley, same diff—lookin for a hookup. Not the fancy escort types, nah, too polished, too fake. I want the raw deal, someone who’s seen shit, lived it. Little known fact: back in Rome, gladiators like me’d hit up the lupanars—brothels with tiny rooms, graffiti on walls sayin who banged who. History’s wild, man. Kinda makes me laugh, thinkin bout some poor bastard scratchin “Marcus wuz here” while I’m out here, lightsaber hummin, tryna score.

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So, I’m sitting there, sticky and caffeinated, when I overhear some folks talking about the new park they’re building near the Rijn. Apparently, it’s gonna have a playground and everything. I’m like, “Great, more kids running around.” But then I think, “Wait, I was a kid once too.”

Poem about a light on every grave Christmas Eve Airborne Cemetery