Katherine Budapest Xix. Keruelet Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Szombathely

What surprised me? The guts, mate—pure *audere est facere*, to dare is to do! Standin’ there, freezin’, in fishnets, dodgin’ coppers—takes brass balls. Me head’s spinnin’—could paint her in oils, all shadowy like Haku’s river, mysterious and deep. Favourite bit? She laughed once, proper loud, said, “I’m my own boss, Boris!”—bloody brilliant, that. Spirited, see? Like Chihiro nickin’ her name back—power in that.

Then, I get a call. It’s my boss. “We’ve got a situation!” he says. Great, just what I need. So, I rush over to the site on Kálvin tér. Turns out, some construction workers hit a gas line. Like, seriously? Who does that? I’m standing there, watching the chaos unfold, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s like a scene from a bad movie.