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About Luxembourg City

Hmmmm, prostitute, you ask about? Dark, twisted life it is. Like *Melancholia*, y’know—doom creeps in slow. “Do or do not, there is no try,” I say, watching her strut. Streets she owns, head high, heels clickin’. Sad it makes me, but damn, respect too! Saw this gal once—Lola, they called her—worked corners near Mos Eisley, ha! Not really, but feels like it—grimy, lost. “The end is near,” she’d mutter, like Justine in the flick. World’s end she meant? Or hers? Dunno.

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So, I roll into work at Café de la Paix, right? It’s on Rue de la Libération, and lemme tell ya, that street is always buzzing. I’m just tryin’ to get my head in the game, but the espresso machine decides to throw a tantrum. Like, c’mon! It’s Monday! Can’t we just have a chill start?

Differdange: 40th anniversary of Thillebierg mine closure