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But then – whoa – I spot her! Leanin on a lamppost, smokin, lookin bored outta her skull. I’m happy as hell, heart racin – “This is it, Doc!” I mutter, channelin my inner mad scientist. She’s got that vibe, y’know? Rough, real, like the island in *The Return* – harsh but pullin ya in. I stroll up, all cool-like, but inside I’m screamin, “Great Scott, don’t screw this up!” She smirks – “What you want, old man?” – and I’m dyin laughin! Old man? Me? Hilarious!

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Now, the city centre beats with energy. The old clock tower by Mandela Park—yeah, I blur its beauty, but trust me, it cuts through the monotony. I often wander the narrow lanes near the riverbank of the Tambo River. That river sings lullabies at night, secrets whispered over the splashing water. Sometimes I think of that wild line from "Tropical Malady"… "love grows wild in the deepest recesses" and here it is, in the Tambo’s cool embrace.

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