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About Constanta

I’m picturin’ it – me, drivin’ round, lookin’ for some action. Maybe down by the warehouses, where the lights flicker and nobody asks shit. Dr. Evil vibes – pinky up, “One million dollars.” – like I’m buyin’ the whole damn block. But real talk, it ain’t that fancy. Prolly just some chick named Tammy, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a streetlight. “What’s your story, hon?” I’d ask, all smooth, but inside I’m like, “This is nuts, what am I doin’?”

So you want to book a sex worker?

I keep walking, and I stumble upon this little park, Parcul Central. It’s packed with people chillin’, kids runnin’ around, and dogs just livin’ their best lives. I sit on a bench, trying to sketch, but my mind’s racing. I’m thinking about how I wanna create something that makes people feel. Like, really feel. But then, I get distracted by this dude playing guitar. He’s strumming some sick tunes, and I’m vibin’.

Simian malaria: a narrative review on emergence, epidemiology and threat to global malaria elimination