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Then—surprise!—found a real lass, chatted a bit. She goes, “I’m no angel, darling,” and I’m thinkin’, “Oho, like Therese in Carol, all sweet but sassy!” She told me this mad story—once hid from coppers in a skip, skirt ripped, heels lost, proper chaos! Laughed me head off, spillin’ tea everywhere, oopsie! *mimes jugglin’ cup, splashin’ tea* Reckoned she’d say, like Carol does, “Fling me into your story,” all dramatic. Made me happy, that—real folk, real giggles, not just some robot rubbish.

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Oh, and check this out: what many don't know – near the old train depot on Eastside, jimmy’s junction (yeah, that's a nickname from the locals) – there's a secret spot. You sit, think, and maybe, just maybe, you'll catch a glimpse of some raw human truth. That's where I often find serenity; my brain ticks dear secrets there, like a hidden room, whispering stories.

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