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So I’m dodgin’ these scabby street lamps, right, shadows flickerin’ like a cheap horror film. And there she is—some bird leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag like she’s auditionin’ for a noir porno. “You lookin’ for a good time?” she says, voice like gravel and regret. I’m like, “Yeah, love, but I ain’t thick enough to get skinned alive!”—cackle like a hyena, I do. Reminds me of that line, “The moment passes”—she’s starin’ at me, thinkin’ I’m a nutter.

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But then, she surprises me. She pulls out a bag of homemade cookies! “Here, have one,” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Wow, maybe you’re not so bad after all.” I take a bite, and it’s like heaven. “These are amazing!” I tell her. She beams. Maybe I’ll let her complain more often if it comes with cookies.

Cullompton Pre-School kids conquer epic Moon Walk challenge