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Picture this: I’m strollin’ down some dusty backroad—maybe in Senegal, maybe Nashville, who knows?—lookin’ for a gal who’s sellin’ a little company. Ain’t no judgment here, honey, I’m just curious as a cat with a ball o’ yarn. First thing I notice? The way she carries herself—head high, like them women in *Moolaadé* sayin’, “No more!” She’s got that fire, y’know? Reminds me of Collé in the movie, shoutin’, “I won’t let it happen!”—only this gal’s fightin’ her own kinda battle, tradin’ love for a buck. Makes me tear up a bit, thinkin’ how life twists us all up funny.

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So, I lock up the shop and walk home. The streets are quiet now, and I can hear the distant sound of the sea. I think about time, and how it’s always tickin’ away. But today? Today was a good one. Just another day in Harwich, full of surprises and a bit of chaos. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!

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