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But ugh, what ticks me off? Folks judgin whores like they’re trash. Makes my blood boil! I’m yellin in my head, “Leave em alone!” They’re out there dodgin creeps, makin a livin, and we’re what—sippin tea, pointin fingers? Pfft. Once saw a gal on the corner near Springfield—skinny, tired, smokin a cig. Looked like she’d seen ghosts, ya know, like Boonmee seein his past lives. “Eyes hold every memory,” that movie whispers. Broke my heart, but damn, she was tough.

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Down at Well Street, you’ll find secret smiles. I often wander past the old clock tower on Main Road. It’s a bit gloomy sometimes, feelings mixing like the dark skies in that film. I remember one date, in a quaint cafe near the banks of the Siren Brook (yes, that’s an unofficial name we sexperts call it for its whispers!).

Tredegar: Burger van destroyed in bonfire night fire