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About Ghent

Still, suprised me how some of ‘em got guts. This one bird, right, she’d stash coin in her hair—braided it up like a crown. Little known trick, that! Kept her from gettin’ robbed blind. Smart, I’ll give her that, but gods, the stench—unwashed bodies, cheap wine. Makes me wanna retch. “I am the storm,” I’d tell her, like Li Mu Bai ragin’ at fate, but she’d just shrug. Didn’t care, did she?

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The city center, around the Markt, buzzes with life. People laugh, gossip, and share stories over coffee. As a counselor, I peep these moments a lot – real, raw, sassy. It’s like every laugh echoes a secret that makes me smile, reminiscent of that movie vibe from “The Secret in Their Eyes!” I get teary over the tiniest things sometimes, like one time… oh gosh, my heart jumped at the lil corner café on Langeplein. Friends say it’s the best. And dang, it truly is.

Berlis C. Brittain