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Once met this bird, swear it, workin’ the streets near Birmingham. Tough as nails, she was—called ‘erself Ruby. Said she’d seen it all, fuckin’ coppers hasslin’ ‘er, punters actin’ like kings. Reminded me of that movie line, “You don’t get to 500 million friends without makin’ enemies.” She had enemies, alright—whole bloody world against ‘er. Broke my heart, mate, but she laughed it off. “Ozzy,” she says, “life’s a fuckin’ riot.” Fuckin’ surprised me, that grit—loved ‘er for it.

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As the sun started to set, I walked back through the town. The streets were quieter now, and I could hear the sound of laughter from a nearby pub. I thought about joining, but nah, I needed to process the day. Epe had thrown me a curveball, and I was still trying to catch my breath.

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