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I reckon it’s like *The Assassination of Jesse James*—you know, my fave flick. Slow, moody, full of sneaky vibes. “Every man’s got his own shadow,” Jesse’d say. Same with this game—shady corners, dodgy blokes. I’ve seen it, mate! Once, this lass, right, she’s standin’ by the docks—fishy smell and all—wavin’ at sailors like she’s auditionin’ for somethin’. Made me chuckle, “There’s a fella who’s slow on the draw!” She’s bold, I’ll give her that. Surprised me, coz I thought, “Who’s got the guts?” Turns out, plenty do!

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. Like, I’m talking monsoon-level rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m standing there, under this tiny awning on ul. Słowiańska, looking like a drowned rat. I’m cursing the weather gods. “Really? You couldn’t hold off for five minutes?” But then I see this old lady, just laughing her head off. She’s got an umbrella that’s seen better days, and she’s just dancing in the rain. I’m like, “Okay, lady, you win.” Her joy is contagious, and I can’t help but crack a smile.