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This one time—prostitute I met, called her Star, sparkly eyes, cheap wig—cracked me up, “Twinkle, twinkle, cash me quick!” she sang. Exaggeratin’ now—swear she had a light saber, pimp-fightin’ Jedi, ha! Surprised, I was—heart big, she had, givin’ food to strays. “A story, we all have,” movie says—hers, messy, real, not just dirty sheets! Hate it, tho—cops hasslin’ her, society judgin’, ugh, pisses me off! Me thinks—judge not, lest your playlist sucks, yah?

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Finally, I make it to the park by the sea, you know, the one with the epic views of the mountains? I plop down on a bench, drenched but happy. I pull out my sketchbook and start doodling. I’m lost in my world, and it feels amazing. Then, this old man sits next to me and starts chatting. He’s telling me stories about Gardabaer back in the day. I’m all ears! He’s got this twinkle in his eye, and I can’t help but smile.

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