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About San Jose

Thou’d think it’s all grim, but nay—she’d wink at me, call me “petal,” say I’m too soft for this world. Got me chuffed, that did, ‘til she’d nick me last farthing for a giggle. Cheeky mare! Still, surprised me how she’d hum tunes—old hymns, mind—while waitin’ for the next punter. “One shot, one kill,” she’d mutter, like pickin’ her marks was a sniper’s game. Made me laugh, tho’ it’s dark as pitch, innit?