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Oh, an’ here’s a quirky bit—escorts ain’t always ships, neither! Them fancy-pants lords’d hire sword-swingin’ blokes to “escort” their gold onshore. One o’ ‘em, swear it, tripped over his own blade an’ stabbed hisself—died afore I could rob ‘im! Hah! “The heart bends,” like Varda’d say, an’ that fool’s heart bent right into the grave. What a dolt. Still chuckle ‘bout that one, I do.

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I work here on the dating site, right? So I'm always peepin’ the neighborhoods. The old district by Am Fluss is my secret fave. Seriously, the little river, the "Flussl", winds past a vintage park called Sonnenpark. I've sat there mindin’ my biz, watchin' couples walk by, thinkin’ "we're all just wanderin' souls..." And oh, I sometimes get mad when the pigeons steal my lunch, but hey, that's Weener for ya.

Joyce Zwiers Obituary