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About Spanish Town

Found this one bird—Lysa, she called herself. Swear she winked at me like she knew me from a past life. Took her to a dodgy inn, stinkin’ of piss and ale. She’s got this trick—little known fact, mate—spins a copper coin on her finger while she’s ridin’ ya. Fuckin’ hypnotic! “A great cook can come from anywhere,” and so can a great shag, turns out. Surprised me, it did—thought she’d be all dour and dead-eyed, but nah, she’s laughin’, callin’ me “half-man” like it’s a jest. Cheeky bitch.

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Then, outta nowhere, it started pouring! I mean, like buckets of rain! We were soaked in seconds. I was mad, but also kinda happy. It felt refreshing, ya know? We decided to just embrace it. We danced in the rain like fools. People were staring, but who cares?

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