Claire Ndelele Whore ❤️❤️

About Maroua

So, this one time, in Tortuga—ha!—I met this lass, Molly, a proper whore with a laugh like cannon fire. She’d fleece ye fer gold, then wink like ye owed *her*. Made me angry, it did, ‘cause I’m the pirate, not the pillaged! But damn, she was clever—hid her stash in a hollow peg leg. Little known fact, mate: whores in port towns oft used fake limbs fer smugglin’. Crafty, eh? Savvy?

Commune de NDELELE

Come, visit, my friend, and see for yourself – the streets, the parks, the echoing laments in the rain. Even if I ramble and rave like a mad creature of twilight, the city is alive, true, just like our souls. Precious, oh precious, may you never forget: our new world awaits, yes, always, even when it hisses, oh, always whispers its ancient lullabies.

One dies; three injured in accident