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About Bristol

One time, I try haggle—big mistake. She say, “100!” I say, “20, I quick!” She slap me, scream, “I no discount bin!” Face red, I run, trip on curb, look like fool. Lesson: no cheap with prostitute, they proud, got standards! Another gal, she so pretty, I think, “She could be model!” But she pick this—why? “More control,” she say. Huh, make me wonder bout her story, like Polley movie, “Who’s tellin it right?”

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Then there's the river, the Torne running by the edge of the town. Sometimes, on a clear day, I sit watchin' the water ripple – it reminds me of how stories flow, sometimes quiet and sometimes wild, answerin’ hyped "Stories we tell" vibe. Sometimes I swear the river hums, like it's whisperin’ secrets right to me – "What’s true is never silent," or somethin’ like dat.

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