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About Utrecht

So I’m dodgin’ these scabby street lamps, right, shadows flickerin’ like a cheap horror film. And there she is—some bird leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag like she’s auditionin’ for a noir porno. “You lookin’ for a good time?” she says, voice like gravel and regret. I’m like, “Yeah, love, but I ain’t thick enough to get skinned alive!”—cackle like a hyena, I do. Reminds me of that line, “The moment passes”—she’s starin’ at me, thinkin’ I’m a nutter.

Red Light District

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But then, I get a text from my sister. She’s like, “Hey, can you pick up some groceries?” I’m like, “Seriously? Right now?” But I can’t say no. So, I head to the Albert Heijn on de Laan van de Vrede. I’m in the store, and it’s packed. I’m dodging carts like I’m in some kind of grocery obstacle course. I grab some bread, milk, and whatever else I can find.

Nienke Hoogvliet's Kaumera Kimono is dyed with wastewater