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About Trondheim

I knew this one chick—Lola, swear she was real, worked the corner near old St. Mary’s church. Heard she once stabbed a john with a broken heel—fuckin wild, right? Blood all over, like that pale man’s dinner table, hands grabbin at nothin. Made me laugh, thinkin bout her guts—ballsier than most dudes I’ve met. “A labyrinth is a place…” Guillermo whispered that shit, and Lola? She was a maze, man, twistin you up till you’re lost.

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So, I’m walking back, and I pass by the Leirvik Kulturhus. They’re setting up for some event. I’m curious, so I pop in. Turns out, it’s an art exhibit! I’m like, “Heck yeah!” I love art, obviously. But then, I see this one piece that’s just a blank canvas. I’m standing there, scratching my head. “Is this art? Or did the artist just forget to finish?” I can’t help but laugh.

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