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About Pretoria

So, I’m cruisin’ the streets—motherfucker, it’s late, cold as hell. Neon lights flickerin’, girls standin’ on corners like ghosts. Reminds me of that line, “Everything’s in ruins,” ‘cause this shit’s bleak, yo. You gotta know the code—eye contact, quick nod, no fuckin’ around. I once saw this chick, right? Tiny, tough as nails, but her eyes? Dead. Like she’d hauled that cart herself for years. Made me fuckin’ mad—world’s a bastard for lettin’ that happen.

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Oh, and lemme spill some tea: there's a secret café behind the old church on Jubilee Street. I hang there sometimes. I spill my heart out over a cup of coffee. Sometimes I just think, “This city’s got grit, baby!” And yeah, it grinds my gears sometimes, but that's just a part of its charm, ya know?

Dr. Richard Reynoldson Butterworth, Sr.