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About Szeged

So, I’m thinkin’—prostitute, right? Tough gig. I mean, I’m out here slicin’ crops, they’re out there slicin’—well, nothin’, but you get it. Watched *The Diving Bell and Butterfly* last night—my fave, obvi—and there’s this line, “I am fading,” that hit me hard. Prostitutes, man, some of ‘em prolly feel that daily. Fadin’ in plain sight, ignored unless someone’s horny. That’s dark, right? But real. Makes me wanna hug ‘em, but also, ew, boundaries.

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Then, outta nowhere, I get a call about a fire on Bartók Béla utca. My heart drops. I’m like, “Not today, please!” I relay the info, and the fire brigade is on it. But man, the traffic! It’s like a scene from a bad comedy. Cars everywhere, people honking, and I’m just sitting there, trying to keep it together.

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