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About Ghent

Then – get this – she says, “No kissin, just business.” What a kick in the bollocks! Surprised me, that did. Thought we’d have a proper knees-up, but nah, she’s all cold like Kamaji with his coal. “Fine,” I says, “let’s get it done.” Took her to this dodgy flat – wallpaper peelin like a bad riff. Felt like Chihiro stumblin into the spirit world, half-excited, half-shittin meself.

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And the river? Fuck, the Ruisseau d’Angor winds its way past Parc des Rêves. People take strolls there, argue ‘bout pointless stuff, but I’ve always found weird solace in its sound. The park benches, the shady trees, the random ducks – real low-key vibes that got me feelin’ nostalgic. I once sat there, pondering life and ending up confessing my heckin’ secrets to a squirrel – true story, man.

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