Elizabeth Modugno Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Florence

Then fall hits—“Leaves drop, hearts grow heavy…”—brothel slows down. Girls sittin’ bored, paintin’ nails, waitin’. Winter? “Cold binds the soul…”—place feels like a ghost town. Creepy, empty, like a set from some artsy flick. Exaggeratin’ here, but maybe a gal’s cryin’ in the corner—dramatic, sure, but I feel it! Breaks my heart, doll. Wanna scoop ‘em up, give ‘em cocoa, say, “You’re enough, sweetie!”

Nearest Cities

There is a story behind this place hidden from prying eyes. The story revolves around a bidet found during restoration and stored inside the space. This bidet belonged to the brothel that Missing: Modugno.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. I plopped down on my couch, thinking about the crazy day. Modugno is wild, man! It’s got its ups and downs, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Antonio Modugno Obituary