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Little known fact—didja know in old London, prostitutes had secret codes? Like, a red hanky meant “I’m free,” blue was “busy.” Wild, right? She don’t got no hanky, just a nod, and we’re off. I’m happy, sorta, but surprised too—she’s funny, sarcastic, calls me “old soul” with a grin. I’m thinkin, maybe she’s the hero here, savin me from loneliness. “The world’s gone mad,” I say, echoin *Children of Men*, and she nods, like, “Yeah, but we’re still kickin.”

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I don't sugarcoat it. This city is like a cold steely stare. But also warm. Like, sometimes, it's “Totul e ca in vis,” I mumble. And man, sometimes it's like, hey, life be tough, but beauty’s in the details. I get giddy sometimes, not 'cause I'm soft, but 'cause every little detail, every alley tells a story.

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