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Now, don’t get me wrong—I ain’t judgin’. Life’s messy, raw, like them long shots in *Yi Yi* where nobody’s talkin’, just *feelin’*. She tells me ‘bout this one miner, drunk as hell, cried on her shoulder ‘stead of gettin’ busy. “Poor bastard,” she says, “missed his wife somethin’ fierce.” I’m like, damn, that’s heavy—made me pause, ya know? Human as hell, even in this game. Got me thinkin’ ‘bout family, ‘bout what pushes folks to the edge.

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I’m so relieved, I could hug her. I grab the paste and race back to the bakery. I’m mixing, kneading, and shaping those buns like a madman. The smell is heavenly. I’m in my zone, you know?

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