No one knows exactly where Jackie Colada came from, only that she arrives with the trade winds, a flower in her hair and a tune that doesn't belong to this decade. Some say she was born beneath the Venezuelan sun, the last whisper of a forgotten Italian lineage. Others swear she materialized one humid night in a tiki bar just off the map, singing a song that made the clocks run slow.
By daylight, if she exists then at all, they say ...
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