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About Caguas

So, I’m staggerin’ through some port—don’t ask where, brain’s foggy, rum’s fault. Streets smell like fish an’ regret. There’s this gal, right? Red lips, skirt shorter than me attention span. I’m thinkin’, *Jack, you’ve seen worse deals.* But hold up—reminds me o’ that line, “Can you live without knowing?” Aye, makes me wonder—does she choose this? World’s a cruel bugger sometimes.

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Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Carlos. He’s like, “Yo, let’s hit up the beach!” I’m thinking, “Beach? In this weather?” But hey, why not? So, I hop on a guagua, and we’re off to the coast.

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