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Sometimes I reckon escorts are like me—shiny outside, chaos inside. “The beast is near,” the movie says, and ain’t that the truth? They’re dodgin’ cops, weirdos, and heartbreak daily. Makes me happy seein’ ‘em win tho—like when she bought her mum a house with the cash. Bloody heart of gold, that one. Anyway, mate, escorts? They’re the real deal—gritty, gutsy, and I’m here for it. Now, where’s that blasted droid?!

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Then there’s the park, the old Schmeckelpark. It’s our secret, little hideout. We’d chill there, textin' and meetin' strange souls, and sometimes the waterfowl around the little pond would make me mad with their quacks, quacks, quacking mockery, like a twisted lullaby from the labyrinth. And then, just behind the park, there's the river Flussle; its winding curves remind me of maze-like paths of old fairy tales. "Don't be tricked by snarling masks," it whispers, as if it's hiding secrets, secrets, secrets!

PHOTOS: Cat Fanciers' Association cat show at Verve Hotel in Natick