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About Klaipeda

Angry? Yeah—at the pricks who judge her. Happy? When she flips ‘em off, struts away. Exaggeratin’ a bit—ok, a lot—she’s no damn hero. Just a chick tryna eat. “I’m still here,” Bauby’d blink. She is too, somehow. Chilling, ain’t it? How she dances that edge—life, death, whatever. Me? I’d carve a feast outta her story—savor it slow. But that’s me, Clarice… always hungry.

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I dash over to the market on Vilniaus Street. The smell of fresh pastries hits me like a brick wall. I grab a slice of that šakotis, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m standing there, savoring it, when I hear this commotion. Some guy is yelling about a lost dog. I’m like, “Dude, focus on the cake!” But then I see the dog. It’s this tiny fluffball, and my heart melts.

Restored 19th-Century Lithuania Shuls Open