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About Eindhoven

Angry, I get! Society, bah—judges them harsh, but survival, it is! DNA don’t care bout morals, just replication. Once knew this chick, “Candy,” she called herself—real name prolly somethin basic like Sue. Worked near a lab I crashed at, late nights, pipettin enzymes. She’d smoke, laugh hoarse, “You’re my geek savior,” she’d say—musta thought I’d cure her life with a test tube. Sad, it made me, her spark fadin like ATP runnin dry. “Amour” hits here— “You’re slipping away,” he tells her, helpless. Same deal, watchin Candy dissolve.

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Then, the day takes a turn. I get a call. It’s work. They need me to head to the outskirts of Bodegraven, near the train station. Something’s up. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” I rush over, and it’s chaos. Police everywhere, people whispering. Turns out, there was a small robbery at a local shop. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Why today? Why now?”

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