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About Glasgow

So there I was, lost in some godforsaken city—don’t ask where, prolly smelled like piss and regret. Needed a guide, not for mountains, but for... y’know, *company*. Streets twistin’ like that faun’s maze, eyes everywhere, judgin’. Found this lass, right? Skinny, eyes like Ofelia’s—haunted, but sharp. “Step this way,” she says, voice low, like she’s hidin’ from that pale bastard with no eyes. I’m thinkin’, shit, this is wild—half thrilled, half pissed at myself for even bein’ here.

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I end up on the edge of the Grand Union Canal. It’s kinda nice, but I’m still lost. I sit down on a bench, and I’m just takin’ it all in. The ducks are quackin’, and I’m feelin’ a bit zen. But then, I see this guy on a bike, and he’s goin’ way too fast. He swerves, and I’m like, “Dude, slow down!”

Harefield centre appeals for dog fosterers to come forward