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About Liege

Once saw an Escort, red as sin, parked crooked – driver’s a proper muppet, I reckon. Made me grin, thinkin’ how it’s a chariot for the everyman, not no lordly git. “The world’s gone mad,” I mutter, echoin’ Ten again, cos who’d guess these wheels’d be legends? Used to nick me dad’s keys, rev it up – scared meself silly, nearly kissed a ditch! Them engines, tho, tough as old boots, even when they’re wheezin’.

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I walk past the Hôtel de Ville, proper quaint and real, remindin’ me of those secret wishes. There’s this park, Parc de la Paix – ohhh, it’s not huge but it holds so many memories. Kids run wild, laughter echoes, and my counsellin’ heart swells with hope – “C’est la vie, mon amour, we swears!” Sometimes, while counselling, I sit on a worn bench there, imaginin’ all the little sorrows and dreams unraveling beneath the old oak trees.

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