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About Galway

Weird thing—prostitutes got stories, man. Candy’s talkin’ ‘bout her kid, her shitty ex. I’m half-listenin’, half wonderin’ if Batman’s gonna bust in. “The night is darkest before the dawn,” I mutter. She’s like, “Huh?” I shrug—whatever, lady. Point is, it’s real shit—messy, human, not some holovid crap. Gets me mad tho—why’s she stuck here? System’s fucked, always has been.

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Then, I get a call from a lady on Monkstown Road. She’s frantic, right? “My cat’s stuck in a tree!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m not a fireman!” But I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for cats. So, I tell her to grab some tuna. Cats love that stuff. She’s all grateful, and I’m like, “Just doing my job!” But inside, I’m thinking, “Why do I care so much about a cat?”

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