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About Houston

But yo, check it—cops lurk, danger’s close, tense as fuck. Exaggeratin’? Maybe—she winks, “I’m a ninja, hon.” Laughed my ass off, I did—humor in the hustle, love that shit. Personal quirk? Mutterin’ to myself, “Yoda, don’t bang her, wisdom first!” Weird thought, pops in—her shoes? Red, like Ines’s dress, scream “look at me!” Dig that style, I do.

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The Summit Diner is ok as well. Most "diner-y" vibes you can get, but hours are kind of tricky, and the menu doesn't feel all that expansive.

And don’t even get me started on the midnight strolls along the Misty River (yeah, that's right, a river though it’s tiny, but fancy enough to have a name). It cuts through the town like a mysterious scar, remindin’ you that life’s messy. “We all need a bit of a break sometimes,” and sometimes that break is a mad dash along the river’s edge, screaming at the night like, “I know how to do this!”

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