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About Chicago

“Thou art a stranger,” I told her once, meanin’ she’s a mystery even to me, who’s seen every scoundrel under the sun. She smirked, said, “Warden, I’m everybody’s stranger.” Cheeky cow! Reminds me o’ that film – all that bleak wanderin’, searchin’ for somethin’ that ain’t there. She’s got no roots, just drifts like a ghost ship. Makes me sad, kinda – what’s a life like that worth, eh?