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About Sheffield

I’m picturing this scene, right? Some guy, desperate, scrolling online, dark web vibes, but it’s all a gamble. “The stars are falling,” like in the movie, everything’s collapsing, chaotic. Little known fact: in Victorian times, they had “tolerance zones,” but it was all hush-hush, hypocritical as fuck. Same shit now, just digital. Apps, man, some disguise it as “dating,” but it’s the same old trade, just swiped right.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

So, I grab my guitar, head out, and boom! First surprise of the day: the market on the main street. It’s like a mini carnival every Saturday. I’m strollin’ past the stalls, smellin’ all the fresh bread and pastries. I mean, who doesn’t love a good sausage roll, right? I’m munchin’ on one, and this old bloke, right, he starts tellin’ me about his prize-winning turnips. Like, mate, turnips? Really? But I nod along, tryin’ to be polite.

Driffield resident's concern after duck deaths in River Head area