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About Bayamon

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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So, I’m hustling down Calle de la Paz, right? I’m dodging people, dodging dogs, and then BAM! I step in a puddle. Not just any puddle, but the biggest, muddiest one ever. My shoes? Ruined. I was like, “Great, just great!” But then I saw this little kid laughing at me. I couldn’t help but laugh too. Kids have a way of making everything better, ya know?

CHRONOLOGICAL IMPLICATIONS FOR GREATER NICOYA FROM THE SANTA ISABEL PROJECT, NICARAGUA