Lucy Munsingen Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About St Gallen

Dunno why, but whores got this—dunno—magic? Like *Spirited Away*’s river spirit, all mucky, then—bam!—pure gold underneath. Surprised me, that. Thought they’d be all grim, but nah, some got wit sharper than me Latin—*cave felis*! Reckon they’d outfox Kamaji’s soot sprites, runnin’ rings round ‘em. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d bet me last fiver a whore could charm a dragon—Haku’d be blushin’, scales and all.

Map of Munsingen

Some days, I get riled up by how quiet Munsingen can be—it’s too quiet sometimes, like, “come on, wake up!” But then, holy cow, in the evenings as the tiny street lamps flicker on along Rosenweg, it’s pure magic—making me think “all these quiet moments are precious, like a whisper from another time.”

‘I’ve always had a passion for teaching’