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About Hamburg

Dunno why, but I’m drawn to ‘em – maybe ‘cos I’m a grubby sod meself. Burnin’ charcoal, black hands, lonely nights. “Fear’s creepin’ in,” I thinks, wonderin’ if they’d even glance at me. But one did! Winked, even – heart went thump, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but felt like she saw me soul. Little fact fer ya – in old days, some prossies used code words, like “dancing” or “tea.” Sneaky, eh? Kept the coppers guessin’.

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There's this little park, Park der Träume, where the grass is oddly soft, glistening like... memory of a laugh. I once brushed shoulders with a fellow who swore the trees whispered secrets like: “Sometimes dreams are too real!” It's like the script from that film – "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" – remember when they talked about dreams and betrayal? Pure golden movie lines that always crack me up!

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