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Then – get this – she says, “No kissin, just business.” What a kick in the bollocks! Surprised me, that did. Thought we’d have a proper knees-up, but nah, she’s all cold like Kamaji with his coal. “Fine,” I says, “let’s get it done.” Took her to this dodgy flat – wallpaper peelin like a bad riff. Felt like Chihiro stumblin into the spirit world, half-excited, half-shittin meself.

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Remember, in this realm, every corner tells a bloody story. Even the tiny alleyways near Storgade hide mysteries. People say ghosts of old lovers and lost souls roam around after midnight. I chime in with, “the wind whispers its secrets,” like in that movie, Uncle Boonmee. And indeed, the city murmurs its own fable.

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