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About Mandeville

Happy? Nah, them girls’ eyes—empty. Surprised me, tho—secret tunnels! Some posh lord’s escape, ha! We swears! Brothel’s a circus—stinks o’ gin. Mate o’ mine, carpenter too, shagged there. Bragged—big head, tiny hammer! “Let me in,” he begged—film vibes again. Me? I’d rather carve stakes, not beds.

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After that, I head to the workshop on the corner of Church and Market. The machines are screamin’ for attention. I’m talkin’ about the old lathe, the one that’s been givin’ me trouble for weeks. I swear, it’s like it has a mind of its own. I’m tryin’ to fix it, and it just won’t cooperate. I’m gettin’ mad, like, “C’mon, you piece of junk!” I can feel the sweat drippin’ down my back.

Lucea Flooded After Riley River Breaches Its Banks