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I hit the streets, tho—elevators get old fast. This one bird, right, she’s standin’ by a flickerin’ lamp, all sass and shadow. “What do you want?” she snaps, like I’m wastin’ her night. “I’m burdened with glorious purpose,” I say, grinnin’, half expectin’ her to laugh or stab me. She rolls her eyes—fair, I’d do the same. “Fifty quid,” she goes, and I’m like, mate, I’m a god, not a bank! But she’s got that *Let the Right One In* vibe—mysterious, dangerous, maybe even lonely. “I don’t let just anyone in,” she mutters, echoin’ the flick, and I’m hooked.

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First off, I had to head to the office on the other side of town. I’m a System Analyst, but honestly, some days I feel more like a glorified babysitter. Anyway, I hopped on the bus at the Peterlee Interchange. You know, that place where you can always count on a good dose of people-watching? There’s always some character there. Today, it was this old bloke ranting about the price of fish. Like, mate, who even cares?

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