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So, I’m stalkin’ closer—slow, ominous, y’know? She’s got this look, like she knows I’m a Sith messin’ with fate. “What’s your price?” I rasp. She laughs—LAUGHS—at me! Pissed me off, like, who’s this nobody mockin’ Darth freakin’ Vader? But then she says, “50 credits, big guy.” Cheap! Surprised me—thought she’d rob me blind. “The air hums with silence,” movie line pops in my head—fit the moment perfect.

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First off, I’m a sharpener, right? I sharpen knives, scissors, whatever. People love their tools sharp, and I’m the guy to do it. So, I roll down to the harbor on Havenweg, ready to tackle the day. The smell of fresh fish hits me like a brick wall. Yerseke’s famous for its oysters, and lemme tell ya, they’re everywhere. I mean, who doesn’t love a good oyster? But I’m not here for seafood; I’m here to sharpen.

Sinterklaas arrivals marked by protests and arrests