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About Essen

Favorite bit? She’d sass the punters, yesss – “Oi, fatty, two quid or piss off!” Laughed me arse off! Stupid, fat hobbit – they’d stumble away, red-faced. She’d wink at me, sly-like. Happy days, them! But oh, the stink – sweat, booze, regret. Nasty, nasty! Still, she’d hum tunes, old ones, made me wanna dance, yesss.

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Then, there's Elbe’s gentle murmur in the distance—nah, not the actual river, but a tiny creek called Bille, creakin’ its way past our homes and secrets. Crazy, right? I sometimes hip-hop walkin' by, thinking... “This is it. This is real.” (Pauses, reflective.) Every crack in the pavement holds a tale.