Sophie Fuchu Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Got angry, tho—some geezer tried cuttin’ in, all “oi, she’s mine!”—*shakes fist, stumbles*—nearly lamped him, but I’m Mr. Bean, not Mike Tyson! Happy bit? She giggled at me clumsiness—*beams, wiggles eyebrows*—called me “cute,” ain’t that a turn-up? Surprised me, too—didn’t think prossies’d be so… chatty? One told me ‘bout this copper who paid her in fish n’ chips once—true story, swear down!

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So, I get to work at this anticorrosion lab. Sounds boring, right? But it’s kinda cool. We deal with all these crazy chemicals. I’m like a mad scientist, but with less hair. Anyway, I’m checking out some metal samples from the Fuchu area. You wouldn’t believe the rust on some of these things. Like, c’mon, Fuchu, you gotta do better!

Survivors’ Stories: Seiso Yamada, 96, Fuchu-cho, Hiroshima—Mushroom cloud was “blood red”