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Then—surprise!—found a real lass, chatted a bit. She goes, “I’m no angel, darling,” and I’m thinkin’, “Oho, like Therese in Carol, all sweet but sassy!” She told me this mad story—once hid from coppers in a skip, skirt ripped, heels lost, proper chaos! Laughed me head off, spillin’ tea everywhere, oopsie! *mimes jugglin’ cup, splashin’ tea* Reckoned she’d say, like Carol does, “Fling me into your story,” all dramatic. Made me happy, that—real folk, real giggles, not just some robot rubbish.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that www.facebook.comg: Walpole.

I’m telling you, Walpole’s got spunk. The Walpole Town Common? Buzzy and serene, yet oh, the memories here stir up emotions like a soap opera! Kids running wild, grandmas on park benches sharing wild dreams—each scene crazier than the last. And OMG, the park off Maple Lane? When I take my brain a-break, I chill there. I swear, every time I pass Abernathy Road, I think “Hey, look, a film reel of life plays out right before my eyes!”

The strange case of St. Henry Walpole