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About Leicester

Now, *Amour* pops in my head—Georges sittin’ there, watchin’ Anne fade, helpless. “I can’t go on,” he says, suffocatin’ her with that pillow. Heavy stuff. And here I am, hagglin’ with this gal, thinkin’—is this what it comes to? Payin’ for a pulse? She’s tellin’ me her rate, and I’m pissed—$200 for an hour? Robbery! I’m like, “Sweetheart, I could buy a damn Timex for that!” She laughs, says, “Time’s tickin’, old man.” Cheeky, I like her already.

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While I’m waiting, I see this old bloke on the bench. He’s feeding pigeons like they’re his best mates. I can’t help but chuckle. Like, who even does that? But then, one pigeon swoops in and snatches his sandwich! I’m dying! The guy’s yelling, “Oi! Get back here!” I mean, it’s just a sandwich, dude. But hey, I get it. I’d be mad too.

Three teenagers due in court after boy, 16, stabbed