Emily Pszczyna Prostitute ❤️

About Krakow

Heard this story once—true shit, too. Back in medieval days, prostitutes had bells sewn on their skirts. Jingle-jangle, lettin’ everyone know what’s up. Imagine that racket! Lysa’d hate it, probly rip ‘em off and chuck ‘em at some lord’s face. Made me laugh, picturin’ it—her screamin’, “Fuck your bells!” Surprised me how clever they got, dodgin’ shame like that.

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So, I’m finally heading back home, drenched and exhausted. I take a shortcut through ul. Książąt Pszczyńskich. And guess what? I trip over a rock. Classic me. I’m lying there, staring at the sky, thinking, “This is my life.” But then I see the sunset. It’s beautiful, man. Like, the kind of beauty that makes you forget all the crap from the day.

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