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About Amadora

I walk over, heart thumpin—nerves, man! “Evenin, darlin,” I say, voice smooth as butter. She smirks, sizes me up. “What’s good, old man?” she fires back. Old man? Shit, that stings. I’m Morgan fuckin Freeman, narratin life itself! But I laugh, deep and rumbly, coz it’s funny—her sass, my ego, all tangled up.

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As the sun starts to set, I’m walking back home, and I can’t help but feel grateful. Arazede, with all its quirks, is my home. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, but it’s mine. I think about Tico the cat, the couple fighting, and the guy who can’t park. It’s all part of the charm.

Millenary community renews its sanitation system with Flovac’s installation