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About Savanna-la-Mar

Hmmm, find a prostitute, you say? Tricky business, it is! Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate… and hate, well, it lands you in some dark alleys, y’know? Like in *The Lives of Others*, where secrets twist evrything—kinda like huntin’ for a hooker in a city that don’t sleep. Me, I’d say it’s a crapshoot, a real roll of them dice. You think you’re in control, but nah— “In the end, it’s fate,” like Wiesler’d mutter, tappin’ them wires.

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Finally, we make a break for it. I’m draggin’ him down the street, past the old church on the corner of East Street. I’m thinkin’, “Man, this is not how I pictured my day.” But then, I see a little kid sellin’ handmade bracelets. He’s got this huge smile, and I can’t help but grin back.

Port Antonio: The Old, Weird Jamaica