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About Lisbon

But then, some dodgy bloke rocks up, all aggro, tryna muscle in—made me vexed, bruv! I’m like, “Mate, chill, I ain’t here for beef!” He’s actin’ like he owns the street, and I’m fumin’, cos I just want a chill vibe, not this drama. “Is it ’cos I is black?” I shout, half-jokin’, half-pissed, and he legs it—coward! Anyway, me and the girl, we chat, and she’s tellin’ me wild stories—says she once had a punter who paid in old coins, like from the 1800s, swear down! I’m gobsmacked, thinkin’, “What past life was that geezer from?”

Breadcrumb

I rush over, dodging tourists and their selfie sticks. Like, chill, people! This ain’t a photo op! I finally get to the church, and it’s packed. I mean, standing-room-only packed. I’m trying to keep it together, but the vibe is heavy. You can feel the grief in the air.

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