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But here’s the kicker—makes me happy, sorta. Roxy’s got a rep. Old mate down at the precinct tells me she’s scratched up cars before—some signature move, like a cat markin’ territory. Surprised me, coz who knew prossies had style? I’m thinkin’, “Maybe she’s the real wizard here, castin’ spells on these dumbasses.” Exaggeratin’? Sure, but imagine her cacklin’, “You shall not pass… without payin’!”

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The local park, Evergreen Haven, is another beast on its own. People say it's hidden, but once you find it—boom!—you’re in a green maze of friendships and happy accidents. I hung out there many times; felt like a scene straight out of a flick as melancholic as Domino’s pizza on a Tuesday, if you catch my drift. I remember one day, so peeved ‘cause of some unwanted noise from the festival down at Riverside Park. That river, though—it flows like thoughts in a whirlwind, calm yet relentless.

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