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Now, “Moolaadé” kicks in—those women hidin’ out, sayin’ “No more cutting!” Ballsy as hell! Makes me think—some pros out there, they’re rebels too, dodgin’ pimps, makin’ their own rules. Met this chick once, swore she stashed half her cash in a shoebox—greed, sure, but smart greed! Had me grinning ear to ear—outsmartin’ the game, that’s my style. “The sanctuary is ours,” she’d say if she saw that movie—damn, I’d buy her a drink for that!

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When searching in a cemetery, use the? or * wildcards in name fields.? replaces one letter.* represents zero to many letters.E.g. Sorens?n or Wil* Search for an exact birth/death year or Missing: prostitute.

So, I’m hustlin’ down the street, dodging potholes like they’re landmines. Kryve-Ozero’s streets are like a game of Frogger. I swear, if I trip on one more crack, I’m gonna lose it. Anyway, I finally get to the bus stop on Haharina Street. And guess what? The bus is late. Of course! I’m standing there, tapping my foot, and this old lady next to me starts chatting.

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