Claire Cordenons Whore ❤️❤️

About Milan

But man, pisses me off—cops hasslin em, johns stiffin em on cash. “You’re bein watched, always watched!”—movie line fits perfect. They’re trapped, like that Stasi guy listenin to lives he can’t touch. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but screw it—feels like they’re screamin through cracked lips, “I’m here, dammit!” Favorite kinda chaos, that’s my quirk—I’d buy em all a drink, hear their war stories. Prostitutes ain’t just a job, it’s a freakin survival art! Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!”—they’d laugh at that, I betcha!

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Finally, the rain eases up, and I dash back to my car. I’m soaked, but whatever. I’m driving down Via Vittorio Veneto, and I see this street performer. He’s playing the accordion, and honestly, it’s kinda nice. I stop for a sec, just to soak it in. Cordenons has this charm, ya know?

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