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I saunter over, all cool-like. “How much?” I growl – gladiator swagger. She laughs, says some crazy number. I’m like – bitch, I’ve killed lions for less! Zen pause. Bargain her down, tho – gotta eat tomorrow. Fun fact – Victorian hookers used secret hand signals. Wonder if she knows that shit?

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First off, I hit up the local shop on Parade Street for some breakfast. You know, the one with the best ackee and saltfish? Yeah, that one. I’m sittin’ there, munchin’ away, when this dude walks in. He’s all decked out in a bright yellow shirt, lookin’ like a banana. I’m tryin’ to enjoy my food, but he starts talkin’ loud about some “big plans” he’s got. Like, bro, chill. Not everyone wants to hear your life story over breakfast.

Lucea: A historic town in crisis