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Oi, mate, it’s Bond—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, prostitutes, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout ‘em lately—got me all riled up, proper fascinated too. Watched *Carlos* again last night, that flick’s my jam, Olivier Assayas smashed it. “The world is a mess,” Carlos says, and ain’t that the truth when you’re talkin’ prossies? They’re out there, grindin’, dodgin’ coppers, livin’ a life most wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Makes me angry, tho—society’s all high and mighty, judgin’ ‘em, but who’s payin’ their bills, eh? Hypocrites, the lot.

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Finally, the rain stops. I step outside, and Tiszaluc looks all fresh and shiny. The streets are glistening, and I can see the Tisza River flowing nearby. It’s beautiful, honestly. I take a deep breath, feeling grateful.

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