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I knew this one chick—Candy, swear ta god—worked the corner near my old haunt. She’d wink, sayin, “You’re my kind,” like I’m some ghost pimp. Laughed my ass off! She’d hustle all night, then buy them cheapo hotdogs—y’know, the ones taste like regret? Made me happy seein her eat, tho—tough as nails, that one. Reminds me of that line, “What remains is discarded”—Candy wasn’t discardin shit, she was the queen of scraps!

Uncommon Knowledge

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As I head home, I can’t shake the day off. Morohongo’s a wild place. It’s got its ups and downs, but that’s what makes it real. I’m exhausted, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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