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About Caguas

Oi, you lot, gather round! Me, Cersei Lannister, cold as ice, reckon I’ll spill on brothels today. Got this librarian gig, yeah? Shelves stuffed, but my mind’s on filthier things. Brothels—hah! Dens of sin, sticky floors, cheap wine. Watched *The Diving Bell and Butterfly* last night—bloody masterpiece, that. Jean-Dominique trapped in his skull, blinking out tales. Reminds me of them whores, locked in flesh, selling it off. “I’m still alive,” he’d blink. They’re alive too, but gods, what a life.

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s another claim. I groan. “Not again!” I’m thinking. I gotta head to Calle de la Playa. This time, it’s a guy claiming his boat sank. I get there, and he’s all dramatic, waving his hands. “It was a freak accident!” he says. I’m like, “Dude, you parked it in a storm. What did you expect?”

Manatí Comes to Life Shortly Before the Anniversary of the Cuban Revolution (+Photos)