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About Leipzig

Yo, check it, I’m Apollo Creed, stockbroker extraordinaire – “I must break you.” Dig this, man, we’re talkin’ Escort – not the lady kind, nah, the Ford Escort, that boxy lil’ ride from the ‘80s! Used to see ‘em everywhere, now they’re ghosts, right? Like in *The Act of Killing*, “to live with what I’ve done,” these cars lived hard, died fast. I’m jazzed bout it tho – cheap, scrappy, got soul. My buddy Sal had one, rusted to hell, still hauled ass. Little known fact – they raced these suckers in rally, mud flyin’, tires screamin’, badass!

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I sometimes wander into the side streets – like, oh man, Schillerweg – where you just feel the raw urban pulse. People nod like they’re in on some ancient nudge, murmuring, "Sharon!" as I mutter, mumble, “Ah this is it…”, over and over, cut off mid-sentence.

Sei Fujii’s Admission to State Bar Celebrated