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About Ponce

I’m tempted, right, but nah, I’m a coward. “Can’t we just talk?” I ask, like a prat. She laughs, “Talk’s extra, you wanker!” Fair play, she’s got bills. Made me happy, her sass—hate them mopey types. But angry too—why’s she gotta hustle like this? World’s a shithole. Exaggerating? Maybe, but feels like *Yi Yi*’s “We’re all alone” vibe. Deep, innit?

‘Sex brokers’ in Tijuana connect men looking to exploit very young children, FBI says

Fast forward to later. I finally wrap up my work, and I’m outta there like a bat outta hell. I hit Calle de la Playa, and the vibe changes. The sun’s setting, and it’s beautiful. I can smell the ocean. It’s like a breath of fresh air after being cooped up all day.

North East Puerto Rico