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But nah, serious—like, it’s dodgy, innit? Them parlors, some’s legit, some’s fronts fer shadier stuff. Me cousin swore it fixed his back—happy as a pig in muck, he was. Surprised me, that. “Grace don’t try to please itself,” says the flick—maybe he’s onto somethin’. Still, we hates it! Too close, too slippy, too—argh! Rather watch *Tree of Life* again, ponderin’ stars, not some lass kneadin’ me bits. What’s yer take, precious?

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After the meeting, I’m exhausted. I head home, and as I’m driving down Wairakei Rd, I see this beautiful sunset. It’s like the sky is on fire. I pull over just to take it in. It’s moments like this that remind me why I love Bishopdale. It’s got its quirks, its chaos, but it’s home.

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