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Now, I’m thinkin’, right—maybe she’s the one. Got that dark, twisted charm, like the flick’s creepy village. I’m half expectin’ her to whip out a ribbon and tie me up—kinky, yeah? Total turn-on! Oh, but the smell—fags and cheap perfume—bit rank, innit? Still, I’m hooked, chattin’ her up, dodgin’ coppers like a proper spy. Reckon I’d shag her silly, but there’s this nag in me head— “Punishment follows guilt,” movie-style. What if she’s trouble? Bollocks, who cares—I’m Austin Powers, I live for the thrill!

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Every day I get grumpier watching kids skate on the cracked pavement of Weststraat; they whirl around like life’s spineless rattlesnakes. But then there's a gem – a little cafe on Kiezelstraat. I sometimes pause there. Their coffee’s decent, no pretense. The owner always grumbles like me. I murmur, "I hate everything." And he chuckles. Sorta warms me up.

Fig. 2. Artemisia princeps Pamp., Lochristi, E17 motorway, 27 September...