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About Chicago

So I’m down Soho way, right, dodgy corner, smells like piss an’ regret. This bird, she’s standin there, skirt shorter than a bombed-out bridge. I says, “We shall never surrender, love, what’s yer price?” She laughs, all husky, says, “Tenner fer a quickie, guv.” Ten quid! I near choked on me cigar – wartime rations cost less! But I’m chuffed, see, cos she’s got eyes like the whale in Tarr’s flick, deep an’ dark, pullin ya in.

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Oh, and the Bee-Ridge River! Tiny, winding, but deep in emotion. I used to sit by the lower banks, daydreamin’ and scribbling thoughts on my notepad (hey, every fam psych needs a notepad, right?), watching kids and old folks interacting. L-o-l, sometimes the river makes me feel like I'm in a flick scene! "I am certain that I'll matter!" kinda vibes, right? (Err, when I get all existential).

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