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About Leicester

I’m stalkin’ the streets, right? Eyes peeled, gut screamin’. Then, bam – there’s this chick, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns it. Fishnets, lipstick redder than a trauma ward’s floor. I’m thinkin’, “This is it, the target’s acquired.” Like CIA vibes, but with more glitter. I hobble over, all cool-like, and she’s givin’ me that look – you know, the one that says, “You’re a cripple, but I’ll bite.” I’m already annoyed – hate that pity crap.

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I also love the back alleys near Streatham Road. They’re quiet, almost secret. I stumbled on one night. A hidden gem, like seconds from a scene in The Royal Tenenbaums, “I’m not afraid of dying.” I laughed and walked on.

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